A Good Heart
by Bookworm Gal
Summary: Anyone who met him would automatically agree that, regardless of his many quirks and faults, he had a good heart. It guided him well through life, even as he left chaos in his path due to clumsiness and obliviousness to his surroundings. It was luck and his good heart that allowed him to grow into the man he was meant to be. It was what led him to be Inspector Gadget.
1. From Good-hearted Child to a Good Man

**Well, I think we can officially declare me utterly insane. I have way too many ideas bumping around in my head and too many stories currently going at the same time. The best thing for me to do would be to just turn around and pretend this never happened. Unfortunately, I just spent the last couple of days with the "Inspector Gadget" theme song in my head. That tune is just too catchy… There aren't a lot of words to it or anything, but you can never get it out of your head. And my efforts to deal with the stuck song only caused an idea to pop into my head and burrowed into my brain.**

**Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't grow up on the cartoon (I'm not **_**that**_** old). I mean, I semi-remember an episode or two from my childhood since I definitely know what the starting and ending credits looked like. And the song is firmly imprinted on my brain. The live-action movie, however, was the first thing that really brought it back to my attention. While I wasn't as happy with the sequel, mostly due to how it really didn't connect well in tone or style with the first, I did watch it at least once. But overall, I am not familiar enough with the series in my opinion to be writing for it (generally, I like to have at least seen all the episodes/movies/chapters/etc before I produce fanfiction for it in order to ensure I don't go against canon). So, I'm not sure I can capture every detail perfectly for this fandom, but I'm trying to capture some of the essence and make something that at least feels like it could belong here. But it might end up as complete garbage, so I apologize now.**

**I don't even know what I'm doing here or what I'm really trying to accomplish with this particular story. If it wasn't a one-shot, I wouldn't even try. But this is the weird little idea my brain sprouted in the middle of the night while the theme song played on repeat in my head. It sort of wanders around and doesn't necessarily follow a normal storyline, switching from amusing to mildly dark at times, but it should still be understandable. Of course, anything that has its origins as the dark depths of my mind is guaranteed to be a little strange. Basically, I have some questions that I've never been able to find the answers to in the cartoon and, among other things, my brain spat out a few possibilities. Any names that weren't in the cartoon, I either borrowed from other sources or just made up. And figuring out a timeline and remembering when the show was first aired meant I had to do a little research, but that wasn't too hard. So I hope you enjoy this.**

A Good Heart

Anyone who met John Maxwell Gadget would automatically agree that, regardless of his many quirks and faults, he had a good heart.

He was a clumsy child, always tripping and knocking over things. It was almost as if furniture, people, bushes, and expensive pieces of art at the museum dove in front of him in a deliberate attempt to knock him to the ground. And if he wasn't tumbling down after his latest encounter, he was knocking larger objects over so that they fell on innocent bystanders.

Most of the time, the dark-haired boy didn't even seem to realize the chaos he caused or the damage he left in his wake. Or if he did notice, he'd innocently believe that someone else must have been behind it. And once that first mistake was made, he'd stop at nothing to discover who caused the problem and ensure they made things right.

Because that was who he was. He was the child who tried his best to obey all the rules, who encouraged others to behave, and would inform the adults when bad things occurred. He didn't tell on his playmates for sneaking an extra cookie or for stealing each others' toys because he liked watching them get in trouble. He just wanted to do the right thing. Of course, this didn't always make him popular with the other children, especially when he seemed to always be confused when they pointed out the chaos he caused was sometimes worse than what they did.

That was where Sophie came in. She might technically be his younger sister, but she always turned out to be the one who took care of him. Light-brown hair and green eyes, the girl seemed to have inherited all the good traits her brother was missing. She was graceful, coordinated, and absolutely brilliant. Not that John was completely stupid; he was merely oblivious at times and often reached the wrong conclusion when he considered the facts. But Sophie was highly intelligent and curious about how the world worked. Whenever her brother broke something (and after his ill-conceived attempts to repair the object himself), he would always bring it to her and watched as she somehow reconstructed even the most complicated victim of his clumsiness.

* * *

"Wowsers," he remarked as he watched the six year old poking around the inside of the family television set. "I still don't see how you're so good at this, Sophie."

She smiled at him, "It just makes sense. If you look at it and can figure out where everything is supposed to go, you can see when something is wrong. And if you see what's wrong, you can fix it."

"But it all looks like… _that_," complained John, gesturing at the collection of tubes and unidentifiable pieces.

"It isn't that bad," she giggled. "Look. One of the tubes was knocked loose." She pointed towards a random piece of the television set's innards. "That's why it won't turn on after you crashed into it."

"Then they should have made it better," he stated. "That sort of thing could have happened to anyone. And I caught the vase from the mantle before it could break."

Smiling slightly at the statement, she suggested, "Maybe Dad should just get rid of that rug. It just causes problems."

He watched her work for a couple more minutes in silence, her small hands moving through the incomprehensible landscape of the television set's inner workings. Even at her age, she did the repairs confidently and easily. Sophie made it all seem so easy.

"You know, you should be an inventor when you grow up," he remarked abruptly.

"What?"

"You'd be perfect for it. You're smart, you already like looking in my science textbook, you're really good at fixing things, and you seem to like this sort of thing. And even your name sounds like a good one for an inventor. Dr. Sophie Gadget," he smiled. "I can already imagine it."

She blinked in surprise, her hand still holding the vacuum tube in place. John took a moment to consider what he just said and couldn't find anything in particular that would have confused her. All he did was tell her the truth. Maybe she just didn't want to be an inventor.

"But I'm a girl," she stated finally. "Aren't girls supposed to get married and have children? That's what all of them do on the television and that's what Mary says when we play dolls over at her house."

"Well, you can do that too," he shrugged. He didn't see any problem. "You can invent stuff and have a family. And you'll probably do great at both."

"Really?"

"Sure. Wasn't that guy who invented the telephone married? I don't remember for sure, but I think so. And if he could do both, I'm sure you can too just as easily."

"But he wasn't a girl," she pointed out.

He frowned, "I would hope not. Otherwise all those history books would have to be fixed. Not to mention his wife would probably be very surprised. She probably bought him ties and such for his birthday and he'd look very silly in those if he was a girl instead."

"That's not what I… never mind," Sophie responded. "You really think I could be an inventor?"

Gesturing back towards the television set, he smiled, "Of course. You're already saving Mom and Dad a lot of money for repairmen. You'll probably build a flying car or something by the time you're my age."

She giggled, "You only a couple of years older than me. I can't build something that big yet."

"That's too bad. It would be nice to have a flying car. Maybe you can build it when we're older. That way I can legally drive it when you get finished."

Sophie smiled at her brother and stated, "Fine, but you'll have to guard me and my inventions so people don't steal them."

"Of course I won't let them steal your inventions," he remarked firmly, grinning brightly at words. "That would be a crime and crime never pays."

As she finished tightening the tube and started putting the rest of the television set back together, she stated, "Okay, you can be a policeman. Because you like following the rules and you can help people by catching bad guys. And I'll be an inventor and build things to help people."

"Like a flying car?"

"Why do you want a flying car so badly?"

"It would be kind of cool," he smiled at her cheerfully.

"But you'd probably crash it into a building."

"I would not."

She laughed a little, "You crashed into the television set earlier."

"It could happen to anyone."

* * *

He was supportive of his younger sister, completely unfazed by the fact she was eventually moved up a couple of grades to his class. And then ended up a year ahead of him. He loved his sister too much to be jealous of her intelligence. In return, Sophie was equally supportive of his growing dream to go into law enforcement. She knew her brother could be a hero, even if it seemed like he needed to be continuously watched to keep from breaking his neck falling down the stairs or knocking over bookshelves like dominos. She might need to help him avoid disaster on occasion, but he could also surprise people when given the chance.

He'd find stolen backpacks, halt the occasional bully, and once even uncovered a small-time smuggling operation at a local Italian restaurant. The last one in particular brought John Gadget into focus. Everyone was shocked at the idea of the clumsy fourteen year old managed to bring actual criminals to justice. His sister was the only one who realized that he performed this particular feat while oblivious to the fact there _was_ a crime. He just stumbled into the situation in an attempt to complain about the meatballs being too crunchy and somehow ended up exposing everything through sheer dumb luck.

That was the second thing everyone who knew John Maxwell Gadget recognized about him. Along with his good heart was an almost unbelievable balance of bad and good luck that always steered him through his clumsy wandering. His strange mixture of luck always seemed to result in chaos and even minor injuries for those around him, but it also allowed him to remain mostly unharmed himself and for him to stumble onto problems that his meddling somehow solved. And Sophie also managed to avoid suffering the worst of his chaos. That was just how he was. It wasn't intentional or planned in any manner. He just made his odd luck work to his (general) advantage. And if he received a little help on occasion to point him in the right direction, it just lessened the time required to achieve the ideal goal and minimized the collateral damage.

As he aged, he worked towards his goal to go into law enforcement just as his sister suggested as children. His occasional involvement in uncovering small-time criminals, even by accident, helped encourage people to gradually take him seriously in that regard (even if they wondered how he managed those accomplishments after they witnessed his clumsiness and obliviousness in person).

Meanwhile, his sister continued to excel in science. She continued to develop her skills at dealing with technology and even began to gain more knowledge than some of her teachers. By the time she graduated high school, she knew she had to continue to college if she wanted to fulfill her potential. While she learned everything she could in engineering and other technological science, she met Frank.

He was studying biology, so they didn't have many classes together. In fact, they could have spent their entire lives not encountering each other and remaining completely ignorant or each others' existence. But fate always seemed to take unexpected turns when someone with the last name Gadget was involved.

* * *

"They sure have a nice campus, Sophie," John remarked, his eyes taking in all the buildings and shrubbery arranged around the college. "I'll bet you have a good time here. Everything looks so nice."

"It _is_ nice. I'm usually too busy studying to really notice much though," she responded, adjusting the glasses she'd started wearing about middle school.

Her brother smiled at her, "You have to take some time every now and then to smell the roses. Sometimes literally. Or if they don't have roses planted, there's probably some tulips or lilies or daisies…"

"Whatever you say, _Deputy_ Gadget," she chuckled, giving him a quick hug to prove that she was proud of her sibling.

Sophie knew how much it meant to her brother to go into law enforcement. He was practically made for upholding the law and serving out justice. She also knew that it was a miracle he made it through training without being kicked out, hurting someone seriously, or destroying too much of their equipment. But he never for a moment doubted that he'd succeed and, likely against their better judgment, they passed him. He simply cheerfully accepted his new job as if any other outcome would be impossible.

Looking rather confident and proud of his new title, he stated, "And don't forget. Deputy Gadget is always on duty."

As he grandly gestured while making this declaration to the world, her brother managed to smack his arm into another young man who was walking by. The impact sent the blond student's books tumbling to the ground and paper tucked into the pages spilled out everywhere. Instantly, Sophie started grabbing the sheets of paper before they could be blown away.

"I'm so sorry about that," she apologized. "My brother isn't always the most… coordinated."

"It's fine," the young man responded, smiling sheepishly. "I should have been paying more attention myself."

"Let me help you with that," offered John, grabbing at the books and dropping them almost as quickly as he picked them up.

Chuckling slightly at her sibling's attempt to help, she quickly introduced herself, "My name's Sophie. Sophie Gadget. And his is my brother, John."

"That is so strange. My brother is named John too. What are the chances of that?" Reaching out a free hand, the blond young man said, "I'm Frank. Frank Dollar." He then smiled ruefully, "Yes, like the money. Everyone loves to point that out."

"Our last name is 'Gadget,' so I understand completely," Sophie shrugged as she shook his hand. Glancing at his books as John kept trying to keep all of them in his grasp, she remarked, "You like science too?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Specifically biology. There are so many possibilities in that field."

"I feel the same way about technology. I was always fixing things growing up and now I have the opportunity to invent them too."

"I'm sure you'll do great at that."

There was a moment where the two met each other's gaze and smiled warmly. They might have just met, but even the most logical mind could see there was something special between them. And then the moment was over.

"Here you go," her brother smiled cheerfully, handing over the books he'd managed to finally pick up. "Sorry about that."

"It wasn't too bad," Frank responded before yanking free one of the pieces of paper. Grabbing a pencil tucked behind his ear, he quickly scribbled down something and handed it to Sophie. "That's my phone number. I have to go to class right now, but I'd like to talk to you later."

"Um… Okay," she took the piece of paper with only a slight hesitation.

His belonging gathered and his contact information in her hand, Frank took off again in the direction he was going before his encounter with John's arm. Sophie stared after him for several moments before shaking her head slightly.

"So when are you going to call him?" her brother asked abruptly.

"What?"

"When are you going to call him? I mean, you can't do it now since he's in class, but you also don't want to wait too late since he might be sleeping when you call him. And people always seem to get so grouchy if you wake them up in the middle of the night," he stated.

"I don't know if I should," answered Sophie honestly. "I mean, he seemed like a nice guy and I kind of like him, but what if we talk more and it turns out he doesn't like me after all. Besides, I should focus on studying. It's easier that way."

"Come on, Sophie, I know school is important and you should always try your best, but this is sort of like the 'smelling the roses' thing I was talking about," he stated. "You can do more than just study. He seemed like nice and you said you like him. And I'm a great judge of character and think it's a good idea. I'm sure everything will turn out great and you'll both get along great. He'll like you. After all, you're a smart and wonderful person who is great at keeping repair bills low by fixing things that get broken."

She smiled slightly at his words before considering them more carefully. While he might not always be particularly observant, he did tend to give her good advice when she needed it. At least, he gave good advice if he was paying attention to everything.

"All right, I'll call him later," she nodded. "But if it turns out that he's not as nice as he seems and he just strings me along until he breaks my heart, you have to arrest him."

Her brother just gave her a confident smile and stated, "Everything will turn out fine. You'll see."

* * *

Even if the young woman possessed doubts when she first approached Frank, John Gadget was both confident and optimistic in his view of what was to come. But he tended to always expect the best out of the world. He believed in justice, honesty, and fairness, no matter what the world might throw at him. He felt the world was a good place and filled mostly with good people. He felt that his job as a police officer was to simply stop those who weren't good in order to make it an even better place. While his optimistic, and some might even call in unrealistic, view of the world might make him seem naïve and annoying, it made other smile and want to help confirm that belief.

And occasionally he was proven completely right.

Both Frank and Sophie swiftly became experts in their respective fields and started making amazing developments. They also became husband and wife, demonstrating that even the most oblivious individual in the world knew what his sister needed. No one was happier than John when his sister walked down the aisle.

Time passed and the siblings kept in touch. Various new leaps in science were taken by the couple, resulting in numerous scientific journals appearing with the name "Dollar" as the author. Frank worked with animals to develop improvements on service dogs for civilian use and those for use with police and the army. He wanted to create smarter breeds that could fulfill their purpose more effectively. Sophie worked with information storage, retrieval, and usage along with dabbling in communications and larger mechanics. She met at a conference and became friends with an older gentleman named Professor Von Slickstein and began trading correspondence with him after he inspired several new ideas. She found him to be charming, polite, and kind, even if sometimes his proposed concepts seemed a little quirky.

John Gadget, meanwhile, continued to puzzle his fellow officers with his strange mixture of complete disasters and surprises success. Simple routine crimes were messed up while impossible mysteries unraveled before his oblivious eyes. Anyone who was assigned as his partner either spent all of their time trying to keep him from injuring them or being dragged along into various situations where an unknown criminal was operating in secret. There were days where they wondered how he could do some of the things he apparently did. He made it look so easy, as if he was doing it all by accident. They never realized it _was_ by accident.

It quickly became clear that it was best to give him the bigger and more important cases. They even gave those cases that would technically be trusted to someone of a higher rank, though there'd been a few people who debated promoting him further for a while. Those that no one else could easily or quickly solve were shoved towards him since his odd talent for stumbling onto the answer by apparent coincidence was better spent on those situations rather than another poor cat stuck up a tree. Besides, it was safer if he stayed away from trapped felines since they tended to come off worse for wear when he became involved.

The rate at which he solved high-profile cases, even if only through his odd luck rather than by being observant, started catching people's notice. Not just people within the police department, but also those with far higher power. And those lurking in the shadows.

The Metro City police might not necessary have jurisdiction over the entire world and the crimes that threatened everyone, but those with that power could recognize potential when they read the reports. And the ideal way to learn more would be to both place someone in a position to observe the peculiar man and to be in place to give him the occasional assignment that he might be able to assist with.

Whether it was fate or luck, the newest "addition" to the Metro City police force occurred just around the time another important addition came into John Gadget's life.

* * *

He'd been there about a month before he decided to take action. He might have acted sooner, but he was having a hard time matching the impressive record on paper to the man he witnessed in person. Not to mention that he also had to perform the job of Chief of Police in addition to observing the unorthodox young man. It wasn't easy being him, but no one ever said that his life was going to be an easy one. Keeping the world a safe one was not for the weak of heart.

Chief Quimby stared at the black-haired man across his desk, wondering if his general behavior was a façade or if he truly was as clumsy and oblivious as he acted whenever he arrived at the station in the morning. It must be an act to lower people's guard. There was no possible way he could uncover so many things otherwise.

"Thank you for coming in so quickly," stated Chief Quimby, giving a brief smile that made his mustache twitch. "This is something that has been coming for quite some time, especially with your impressive record."

While most of the time he'd observed him in the past, John Gadget would be completely focused on his job and maintaining order in the world. Most people seemed to feel that he was married to his work. Today, however, he seemed a little distracted from the meeting and his mind was clearly elsewhere. Chief Quimby decided to get to the point.

"You know that your promotion has been discussed repeatedly during your time on the force and now that I've transferred here, I feel that it is about time that your hard work is rewarded. How does the title Inspector Gadget sound?"

For the first time since he stepped into the office, Chief Quimby felt he had the younger man's full attention. A huge smile spread across his face and reached across the desk to shake his hand.

"Wowsers. Thank you, Chief," he stated. "You don't know how much this means to me."

His frantic attempts to shake the man's hand in gratitude, while a nice gesture, unfortunately knocked the mug of coffee over. Hot liquid spilled all over the desk and splattered the chief slightly, resulting in the scalded man jumping to his feet with a yelp of pain. Again he was forced to wonder about the newly-appointed inspector and how he could seem so competent at solving crimes and yet so incapable of navigating normal life without incident.

"Sorry about that, Chief. Are you all right? That coffee sure looks hot," remarked Inspector Gadget.

"I'm fine," he muttered, waving him off. After blotting at the mess with a few paper towels and making sure that there weren't any serious burns from the accident, he continued, "As an inspector, there will likely be more and more cases assigned to you that will challenge your skills. I might even start getting you involved in more international cases."

He waited for the dark-haired young man to ask about jurisdiction and how an inspector for Metro City could be involved in international cases. After all, that was the logical question to be asking. That would be the point where Chief Quimby explained that he didn't just work for the police. It would be the ideal way to see if Inspector Gadget was right for the position.

Instead of asking, however, he simply stated, "That sounds like a great idea. I'm really looking forward to it."

Chief Quimby frowned briefly. While he sounded excited about the idea of working on bigger cases, something in the man's tone also made it clear he was still distracted somewhat from the conversation. And judging by what he'd observed on the man previously in the month he'd been in Metro City, there was very little that could distract him from his job. But today it almost reminded him of watching a child at school counting the seconds until they could head home.

"What's on your mind?" he asked finally.

"Nothing," answered the dark-haired inspector far too quickly.

Rather than point out there were times he certainly acted like there was _literally_ nothing on his mind, Chief Quimby asked again, "What is making you so distracted today? Because I can tell you're thinking about something important. You're not exactly the best liar."

Inspector Gadget gave a small sheepish grin, "Well, it's about my sister. She had a baby earlier this week and I was going to go visit them this afternoon so I could meet my new niece."

That he could understand. Family always came first. No wonder he was so distracted. But Chief Quimby already gave him the necessary information concerning his promotion. Everything else could wait a day or so. Besides, he might be a little less clumsy when he was no longer distracted by his excitement over his new niece. Chief Quimby hoped so at least. He'd hate to have coffee spilled on him by Inspector Gadget every day after all.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off and go see your family," he suggested carefully. "You can start enjoying your new title tomorrow."

"But I'm always on duty," argued the younger man.

"You can be on duty while seeing your niece then," responded Chief Quimby. "Not to mention you can share your good news with them."

A broad grin spread across the newly-appointed inspector's face and he quickly moved to follow the older man's suggestion. The only hindrance to the plan occurred when he tried to close the door behind him. Somehow, Inspector Gadget managed to close the door on his coat as he left and end up almost falling when he tried to walk away. Chief Quimby promptly buried his face in his hands.

"Please let this be a onetime thing. Otherwise I'm going to be wondering why I put up with him for the rest of my life," he muttered.

* * *

Across the city and away from the walking source of chaos that was John Maxwell Gadget, was the one thing more important to him than his role as an officer of the law and force for good. Family.

While he was truly married to his job and perfectly happy that way, his sister and her family was something he loved with all his heart. Anything he could do to help them, he would do it in a heartbeat. Even if his attempts to assist might occasionally go astray. In fact, in order to keep the promise he made Sophie so long ago when they were children, he would allow her to store some of her inventions she worried about being copied or stolen at his house. Usually the object was only there long enough for her to be certain that the patent went through or until it was perfected, but her brother was perfectly happy to help during her rare moments of paranoia.

She knew she could always trust him with her most prized possessions. And that included the one that mattered most in the world.

* * *

"Are you certain you don't want to list _my_ brother as her godfather?" asked Frank, a slight grin demonstrating that he was only kidding.

Sophie gave him a stern look from where she was rocking her daughter, "Yes, I'm sure. I like your brother. I really do. But can you honestly imagine how he'd deal with a little girl?"

Her husband gave a slight shudder, "He wouldn't know what to do. But what about yours? I mean, he's a great guy and everything. Though I'm still trying to figure out how his attempt to fix the lawn mower one day resulted in it picking up radio and producing all that smoke. But I'm afraid that he'd lose her in five minutes or would break his neck trying to fix her breakfast."

"He isn't that bad," she responded, unfortunately timing her words with the earlier arrival of her sibling as managed to turn knocking on the front door into knocking it off its hinges. As she watched her older brother give a sheepish grin and try to reattach the door, she added quietly, "And this is only a precaution anyway."

Giving up on his repair attempt, the dark-haired man gave a slight wave, "Hi, Sophie. Hey, Frank. I got out a little early today. And I was promoted to inspector."

"That's wonderful," his sister stated, only restraining herself from hugging him due to the small bundle in her arms. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks," he smiled before turning his attention to the infant. "Is that her? She's almost as small as you were. Though she also a lot quieter."

"This is Penny, She's your new niece," the new mother said, giving her baby a small smile of her own. "Say 'hi' to your Uncle John, Penny."

"Which Uncle John?" pointed out Frank. "She has two of them; my brother and yours have the same name after all."

Rolling her eyes slightly at her husband, Sophie corrected, "Fine. This is your Uncle Gadget and you can meet your Uncle Dollar later. That should help with the confusion."

"So," asked the new uncle cautiously, "can I hold her?"

With only a slight hesitation in concern for her daughter's safety, the woman carefully placed her dozing infant in John's arms. She moved to rearrange his grip into something more secure, but found to her surprise that he was already adjusting to her presence perfectly. He was holding his niece as if he'd been doing it for years already. Any doubts about her brother's capabilities as a guardian should the worst ever come to pass were promptly banished. Some people were simply born to be parents and Sophie could see that John was one of them.

In some ways, she was mildly surprised that he didn't seem to be planning to start his own family. After all, he wasn't one of those people who didn't like kids and she currently held no doubts that he'd make a great parent now that she saw him with Penny. But Sophie also knew that dating never seemed to go well for her brother. Too many women ended up leaving with marinara sauce on their dress or nursing bruised feet from their attempt at dancing with him. That was just how John was, though. And if he never started a family of his own for some reason, she knew that he would be perfectly happy being there for his niece.

"You said her name is Penny?" he remarked, rocking her slightly with almost practiced ease.

"Penny Margaret Dollar," confirmed the woman, pushing her glasses back into place.

Frank gave a small grin, "Yeah, we figured that since we had to grow up with last names like 'Dollar' and 'Gadget,' we should make sure our child gets a double-dose of the possible jokes about money with her first and last name."

Blinking in confusion, the inspector asked, "What do you mean by jokes? What's wrong with her name?"

Shaking his head, he responded, "Never mind."

* * *

Years continued to pass and the infant began to grow. Penny began growing into a friendly and nice child who enjoyed visiting her Uncle Gadget and Uncle Dollar, though she tended to get along a little better with the inspector. By the time she was five years old, however, there was only one uncle for her to spend time with left. Frank's brother suffered a heart attack and passed away abruptly, leaving only one family member with the name "John."

Meanwhile, Inspector Gadget began to receive the occasional international case and would leave the city for his job. His investigations, regardless of how much they depended on luck, were slowly bringing him to the attention of a powerful organization that was not happy with how he was uncovering some of their smaller operations. Once or twice, a member was sent subtly to make the man an offer in order to persuade him to look elsewhere and to leave the business of MAD alone. Such bribery tended to either be completely missed by the oblivious inspector or he'd flat out reject it on the rare occasion that he understood what was being asked of him. In the situations where the second occurred, he'd immediately arrest the person for attempting to bribe an officer of the law and thoroughly demonstrated to everyone that his loyalty was not for sale.

Sophie and Frank Dollar continued their work, even after the birth of their daughter. It became quickly clear that their child was also intellectually gifted, so the proud parents often discussed their current projects with her. While she might not understand everything they described, she was still smart enough by the time she was seven to follow along somewhat as her father remarked on his intention to increase the cognitive skills for a particular breed of canine or her mother explained how she planned to devise a more portable version of a computer that would be able to access the databanks of others without being physically connected. Unfortunately, Penny was not the only one who was intrigued by their work and they did not like taking no for an answer.

Dr Claw, leader of MAD, knew the worth of competence; after being surrounded by so many incompetent idiots, he understood it far too well. And since far too many members of his organization lacked that particular trait, he knew he'd have to make up for it with intelligent plans and the work of brilliant scientists. If he could not buy the required inventions from less scrupulous creators, then he was not above threatening them for cooperation or flat-out kidnapping them so they had no choice but to obey his commands. When Mr. and Mrs. Dollar caught his attention with their work and possibilities began to race through his head, Dr. Claw sent them a message and had one of his followers prepare a warning just in case.

The message was short and simple. The couple would turn over _everything_; every invention and development they'd ever worked on would be handed over to MAD. Otherwise, the consequences would be harsh. And any attempt to contact the police for help would be dealt with severely.

* * *

"You know this has to be a hoax or something," pointed out Frank as he wandered around his wife's lab, cleaning up. "I mean, what kind of organization calls itself MAD? And why would they be interested in us? I'm telling you, this has to be someone's idea of a joke."

"I'd still better if we talk to John about this," Sophie responded, straightening up some of her paperwork as the various machines hummed and beeped around her in a manner she'd always found to be rather soothing.

"And if whoever sent that message is serious? Remember the part about not contacting the police?"

"I'm not contacting the police. I'm contacting my _brother_. He visits all the time, so it really isn't that unusual for him to come by the lab. I even ask him to store stuff at his house every now and then. If they know anything about our routines, which they probably do if they're trying to threaten us, then they won't suspect a thing if John comes by."

"It still sounds like you're breaking those rules that they set up by calling him," Frank muttered.

"So says the man who gave his daughter one of your genetically-altered puppies for her birthday," pointed out Sophie.

"It was a large litter," he defended. "No one will miss him. And you saw how much Penny loved Brain. And what about your extra project you hid in the garage? The one for your brother?"

She smiled, "He always said I should build a flying car. And even if it can't fly, I think he'll like it. I asked for Professor Von Slickstein's input on it. He has some rather fun and interesting ideas at times, though I'm not as comfortable with his plans to stick those sorts of things inside a person. I'll stick with simply putting them in a car."

"Yeah, but I just want to prove that I'm not the only one using their work to make presents for family members. I just hope he likes that 'Gadget-mobile' thing you made him."

"Just don't spoil the surprise," his wife reminded him. "And you told Penny we'd be home a little late, right?"

Frank nodded, "I told her we're meeting her Uncle Gadget at the lab this afternoon and to feed her dog."

A soft knock at the door interrupted their discussion. For once not managing to knock over or trip over anything in the process, John Gadget managed to step into the lab and gave his sister a quick hug. He was always glad to see Sophie and Frank rather liked his brother-in-law, so it wasn't like they didn't see visit often. Especially since the inspector liked to bring his work with him sometimes to see if the two scientists could provide some insight into the crime. His obliviousness concerning the obvious often caused him to miss something until Sophie or Frank spelled it out to him, but they didn't really mind since they enjoyed the puzzles he would bring.

"Hey, Sophie, I still have a couple of boxes you asked me to keep for you," John stated cheerfully. "I just don't want you to forget about them and think you lost them."

"I won't," she smiled at him. "And thanks."

Leaning against one of the machines, glancing carefully to make sure he wasn't hitting any of the buttons, the inspector remarked, "Now, you said that you had something important you needed to talk about, right? What can I do to help, Sophie?"

"Someone sent us a threatening message in order to obtain our work," answered Frank bluntly.

The statement sent the dark-haired man flailing slightly in surprise, almost losing his balance from where he was leaning against the equipment. Once John apparently regained his footing, his brother-in-law continued his explanation.

"We got it yesterday. They want everything we've ever worked on. I think it's probably some kind of joke, though certainly one in poor taste. They said not to contact the police, but Sophie said she'd feel better if we talk to you about this whole MAD thing."

"Wait a minute, did you say MAD? Are you sure? You could have made a mistake, right?" interrupted John. When both of the scientists silently confirmed the name of the sender, the inspector frowned, "I've run into them a couple of times before. If they're the ones who sent the message, then this is serious. But it couldn't be them. I mean, what are the chances that they'd go after the two of you and your inventions? All of your stuff is rather impressive, I'll admit. But there are lots of other inventors in the world. Why would MAD come after you?" He trailed off briefly before stating, "But if you say it was them, then I believe you. Don't worry. We'll get all of you into protective custody. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

"Isn't that exactly what the message said _not_ to do?" pointed out Frank, wandering casually around the lab while thinking.

"Would you prefer to turn over your life's work and mine?" asked Sophie, taking a step towards him.

"I'd rather not risk our lives either," he responded. Then, in a quieter voice, he reminded, "And what if these people are serious and they decide the best way to motivate us would be to go after Penny?"

"That's not going to happen," stated John firmly. "They won't touch her."

Frank stared at him brother-in-law and, for possibly the first time since he first met the man on that collage campus years ago, he could actually see how the clumsy man could actually be an inspector. The moments might be rare, but the blond man could occasionally catch a glimpse of the determination and even competence that John could display when necessary. In that instant, Frank could say he held no doubts that somehow Inspector Gadget, the man who could barely cross a room on a good day without causing some kind of mess, would make sure that Penny stayed safe regardless of what MAD might have in mind. It was a mild surprise to realize that his brother-in-law could give off this impression and instill that level of confidence in him, but Frank knew he should have realized that John had that potential. How else would he still be in law enforcement?

Abruptly his musings about the hidden depths of his wife's brother was brought to an end as Frank noticed that something was off. There was something different about the symphony of whirls, clicks, and beeps that went through Sophie's lab. He knew every sound that occurred in the room. He recognized each and everyone. But there was another sound that was quietly interrupting that familiar background noise. A soft and steady beeping that didn't belong in the lab and was only noticeable up close. He could only hear it because he was right on top of it. A quick glance around showed nothing out of place, but there was space between or behind the machinery to hide something out of sight if necessary. His wife used to hide their anniversary present there on occasion.

"Sophie," he whispered.

Before he could say anything else, the world exploded into fire and chaos.

* * *

Far away, sitting in front of a screen and previously stroking a feline, Dr. Claw observed his plans destroyed by incompetence. A metallic fist formed in frustration as he punched the screen and it shattered. Somehow, his orders to "send a warning if they contact the police" translated to his followers as "blow them up." Now any possibility of making use of their technology and developments was destroyed as thoroughly as the lab and all who were inside it. A complete waste of potential resources. The only thing he could draw comfort from was that Inspector Gadget, a man who was slowly developing into a slight thorn in his side, was apparently gone as well. His demise would at least keep the entire operation from being a total disaster.

Trying to enjoy that small victory concerning the disposal of an annoyance, Dr. Claw decided it was time to contact his particular follower who believed that a bomb was the ideal way to handle the situation. That specific individual would not be breathing for much longer.

**Yeah, my original plan was for this to be a one-shot. Then the length continued to build. So, they'll at least be one more chapter. Reviews are appreciated.**


	2. Only Human

**This is the sort of thing that happens when my brain takes on a life of its own. The random idea just spreads and grows like a virus. Add in the fact that I keep trying to work out a semi-logical explanation for things that weren't even considered in the show and didn't need a justification. I over analyze things and keep trying to devise some form of reason for how things happened, like why Penny would call her uncle "Uncle Gadget" rather than using a first name like most kids do their aunts and uncles or other such minor details. As I stated, I am probably insane. On the other hand, sanity is rather boring.**

There wasn't much that survived the destruction of the lab. The whirling machines that lined the walls were nothing more than smoldering remnants of metal and the ceiling collapsed inwards during the explosion. Any research that once resided here was undoubtedly lost, meaning that her determination to keep her creations out of evil hands was at least a success. There would almost certainly be rescue units arriving in search of survivors. An explosion wasn't subtle and people would be concerned.

There would not be much to find. Most of the former occupants of the lab were already beyond help. At least it was quick. The husband and wife went together, gone too quickly to feel any pain. That was at least a small kindness.

But even with the forces involved, one heart still beat stubbornly.

The body of John Gadget would not be easily recognized as being alive or even as being a person. Heat, shrapnel, and explosive forces broke the man far too easily. Flesh and bones tear and shatter in response to the detonation. His arms and legs were nothing more than useless, bone-shard-filled, lumps of burnt flesh that would never again function. The only reason those injuries hadn't caused him to bleed out already was due o the heat cauterizing the worst of it.

And his heart kept beating.

When he hit the wall, thrown by the force of detonation, his limbs were not the only bones to break. Ribs cracked, vertebras fractured, and the back of his skull shattered into fragments that quickly started poking into his grey matter. Unconsciousness was a blessing since pain would have easily overwhelmed him. Most would prefer it to lying awake during their undoubtedly final moments.

Still, his heart continued to struggle beating.

Internal bleeding, unlike the external injuries, was not inhibited by the damage from the heat. There was no cauterization to stop blood from leaking into the chest cavity. Each breath was shallow and ragged, only chance preventing the lungs from being punctured by broken ribs each time he inhaled. Even he fleeting possibility of survival was slipping away with every moment. There were simply too many injuries to one man's battered body to keep alive.

Yet the beating of the dying inspector's heart continued, stubbornly and almost desperately clinging to life.

When the first responders managed to reach the lab, no one expected to find many survivors. When they found the broken figure crumpled on the ground, clearly suffering from debilitating and almost certainly fatal injuries, they held little hope that they would be able to transport the victim to the necessary medical care without him dying along the way. And even if by some miracle he managed to hang on long enough to reach a hospital and he was stabilized, they knew he wouldn't have much quality of life. There was simply not enough left of him to salvage.

But his heart still kept trying to beat.

* * *

Fate occasionally decided to smile on someone who deserved it or played a cruel joke, depending on how you viewed it. Or maybe it was simply his odd luck acting up again. The late Sophie Gadget's association with Professor Von Slickstein, the Metro City's police force and those in higher power's interest in the peculiar inspector, and Chief Quimby pointing out the fact that there was an orphaned little girl whose only living relative was barely hanging onto life all meant that they were willing to take a long shot. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was the only one that might result in his survival. They just needed to keep him alive and stable long enough for the attempt. Something that seemed unlikely after they saw what remained of Inspector Gadget.

Yet, even as his body tried to surrender to the damage during the wait for help, his heart continued to beat in the broken remnants of his chest.

But the fragile organ was beginning to falter in response to the trauma. After all, he was only human. There was only so much he could survive.

Before the heart could completely stop beating, Von Slickstein arrived with a more usual surgeon and the necessary equipment for the radical and experimental procedure.

* * *

Dr. Lewis knew what was being asked of him and wasn't sure he could do it for multiple reasons. The man in front of him, an inspector from what he'd been told, was almost too far gone for any of his skills. It was certainly too late for most modern medicine to save him. But Professor Von Slickstein, an undoubtedly brilliant man who could craft mechanical wonders, intended to test several new creations by installing them in this man and might even keep him alive in the process. At least no one was trying to quote "The Six Million Dollar Man," regardless of how appropriate the line about rebuilding him might be.

Dr. Lewis's role was to stabilize the patient during the installation, repair what damage they needed him to, and to handle the organic half during the connections. After all, Von Slickstein might develop devices he intended to place in the human body, but he wasn't a medical doctor.

And as a man of medicine, Dr. Lewis could honestly say that he had his work cut out for him. Even the briefest examination demonstrated all four limbs were beyond salvaging. The extent of the internal injuries were more difficult to judge with just a cursorily glance, but they were almost guaranteed to be extensive. He couldn't be certain how much damage was done to the organs, but that would be one of the first repairs he'd be focusing on. That and assessing the condition of the patient's brain. All of Von Slickstein's crazy improvements would be useless if his intended test subject turned out to be brain-dead.

That was the real heart of the matter. Dr. Lewis could accept and understand the necessity for mechanized limbs to replace those destroyed by the explosion. Prosthetics had existed in one form or another for at least centuries. After all, what were peg-legs and hooks on pirates but attempts to deal with lost arms and legs? And anything designed to help failing organs continue to function or to replace them completely if no donor could be found certainly offered possibilities. These were logical steps to save lives and provide a higher quality of living for those suffering health-wise. That certainly fell under his oath as a doctor. The rest of Von Slickstein's proposed improvements were more problematic. A helicopter coming out of the man's head? How was that necessary for a life-saving procedure? And fitting all those _gadgets_ in the patient's body could quite easily break his promise to do no harm. In order to fit the mechanical aspects into the confined space, something would have to be removed. Even Von Slickstein's space-saving designs could only do so much to get around the laws of physics: two objects could not occupy the same spot at the same time.

It was a hard dilemma for him. Dr. Lewis could either work with Professor Von Slickstein to install the mechanical additions to the patient, both the necessary and the superfluous. Or he could turn it down and hey could struggle to find another doctor more willing to work with the inventor, though it was doubtful the patient would survive the delay consider his condition. In the end, he could either risk the harm to the man's remaining body by assisting in the installation or he could sign the certificate of death when another surgeon arrived too late. Of those choices, Dr. Lewis knew he'd rather start picking skull fragments out of the patient's brain and search for ways to maneuver the grey matter so that Von Slickstein could fit in his alterations without destroying the man's mind completely.

As he took a scalpel in hand, preparing to slice into the broken chest of the patient in order to begin damage control, the brief question of how much would remain of the man flickered through Dr. Lewis's mind. He'd read Isaac Asimov's work in the past and it made him wonder. How many circuits and wires did it take to go from being human to being a machine? Would the microchips connected to the patient's synapses be the new him or would he still be the same man he was before the accident, albeit with some metallic additions? Perhaps it was best Von Slickstein's overzealous designs lacked more mundane weaponry such as a gun. A man who became an inspector might have a good heart and could be trusted with such a thing, but only time would tell if that man would be the one who woke up.

Whether he awoke man or machine, Dr. Lewis would do his job to ensure his patient survived long enough for those questions to be answered. He would heal the organic while Von Slickstein dealt with the mechanical. For good or ill, he would fulfill his oath.

With that firm decision, the doctor began the hurried search for the worst of the internal bleeding and failing organs.

* * *

Hours passed. Engineering and modern medicine worked together to create something new and far beyond what either field ever imagined before. Blood and oil flowed side-by-side through the formerly-dying John Maxwell Gadget. The bionic man was slowly and gradually taking shape into something that could survive, both the organic and metallic aspects supporting each other. Microchips inserted into the skull converted the signals of metallic limbs and sensors into something understandable to the human mind and vice versa. Broken vertebras were replaced with metal to protect vulnerable nerves and newly-added wires alike. Internal organs were repaired, strengthened with mechanics, or were completely replaced with devices intended to fulfill the original's required role. And Von Slickstein's various gadgets were installed into the man named Gadget. It wasn't perfect; one of the individuals performing the work knew very little about higher technology and the other only understood the mysteries of the human body in theory. Mistakes were bound to occur, but none would prove to be fatal or overly incapacitating to the inspector on the operating table. His heart, still human and only mildly augmented to help it fulfill its new requirement concerning his less-human aspects, continued to beat in his repaired chest.

But while he lay unconscious, having his body transformed without his knowledge, his last living relative faced the reality of what occurred. Penny Dollar was a brilliant girl, just like her parents before her. She understood perfectly well what an explosion at the lab meant. Her parents and Uncle Gadget were there at the time. She knew that. She knew what Chief Quimby, with his apologetic expression and soothing tone, was telling her when he said her mother and father would not be coming home. Even someone not as intelligent as her understood what the word "orphan" meant. And even though Chief Quimby tried to offer hope by mention that her uncle was alive, though in critical condition, Penny knew better than to consider the possibility. It would only hurt more when she found out she lost him too. And her heart already hurt too much. Everything except her puppy was gone and it would never get any better. It was just her and Brain. She was alone.

Chief Quimby took her home that night, believing it to be his duty as Inspector Gadget's superior. He could at least keep a roof over the child's head until the fate of her uncle was known. He'd already pulled a few strings to keep social service from taking charge of her during her uncle's current state. The only other place she might go if the inspector did not survive would be an orphanage or foster home. Her future depended solely on whether the experimental procedure saved her uncle's life.

So when Inspector Gadget stabilized fully and it became clear he would live, though questions about the effects on the man still remained, Chief Quimby felt relieved to inform the heart-broken girl that her uncle was out of immediate danger. And he searched for a way to explain what it took to achieve such a thing.

* * *

This was probably a little out of his job description, but Chief Quimby knew it was his duty regardless. He couldn't let the blond girl slip through the cracks. He could still remember when the inspector brought his niece to the police station, eager to show off to the bright four year-old. And even in the face of the clumsy and destructive chaos that Inspector Gadget caused, Penny didn't blink an eye. On the other hand, she could stand in the eye of the storm that was her uncle's antics without it even disturbing her pigtails. The child was one of the few that consistently escaped harm from the dark-haired man's mistakes. He even sometimes displayed an astounding amount of coordination when snatching her out of the sort of trouble that even the smartest child was bound to encounter. Even Chief Quimby's limited exposure to Penny was enough to know that her uncle adored her and would keep her out of an orphanage no matter the cost. He just wondered what the cost of giving the child back even a part of her family would be.

She was more subdue now than what the chief observed in the past, barely speaking to anyone except the puppy she refused to be parted with. It took plenty to convince Mrs. Quimby to allow the canine in the house, but he'd managed somehow and even got his wife to agree to watch him when he took the girl out today. He would have found a way to keep the dog anyway even if Mrs. Quimby didn't agree; the child needed something to hold on to after having so much in her life snatched away.

In addition to the silence, there was the look in her blue-green eyes. The pain of losing her mother and father clearly lurked in their depths. It was an expression he'd seen before at the scenes of crimes, but it never got any easier. And even as he led her to see her living, though still unconscious, uncle recovering from his ordeal, Penny almost seemed afraid to believe it was true.

"Now, I'm not the best at explaining medical stuff," he stated uneasily, his steps echoing down the halls. "But the damage to Inspector Gadget was apparently… quite extensive. But they've fixed him now," he quickly assured. "He's going to be all right. He just might be a little different than you remember."

"Different how?" she asked quietly, glancing up with something that might just be the slightest glimmer of hope.

"Again, I'm no expert and I'm not the best at explaining this sort of thing," Chief Quimby said. "I'm better at explaining missions and such. From my understanding, the injuries that were more… serious were repaired by replacing them with robotics."

She gave a brief frown, but not one of confusion. She clearly understood what he meant. Chief Quimby abruptly recalled that Penny's late mother dealt with technology, so such an idea was likely not a strange one for her. That should make things a little simpler for him.

"How much?" she whispered. "How much did they add to save him?"

"A lot," he admitted as they reached the door. "Probably more than they needed to. I just thought I should warn you before you see him."

Penny took a deep breath and closed her eyes, apparently gathering her courage or fortitude or both for what was coming. Considering all that she was suffering lately, the girl must have an impressive reserve of such strength to draw upon. Most seven year olds would crumble in her situation.

Opening her eyes, she stated, "It doesn't matter what they did to him. He's still my Uncle Gadget, right? As long as he's all right, we'll figure things out."

Nodding proudly at her answer, Chief Quimby gestured towards the room and Penny accepted it as an invitation to enter. Briefly, the man wondered if he should have at least checked first to see what the inspector looked like and it would be too traumatizing for his niece to see him in his current condition, but it was too late now. She didn't even hesitate upon catching a glimpse of her uncle. She hurried to his bedside, only pausing when she reached towards him.

Chief Quimby had to admit that they did a good job on him. At first glance, there wasn't any obvious sign of the numerous additions to his body. He looked burnt, bruised, and part of his head was wrapped in gauze, but he was also clearly breathing underneath the white sheet and hospital gown. Everything suggested that he was a hurt, but normal survivor of an accident. Even the medical equipment beeping softly next to his bed, monitoring his condition for changes, and thin tubes connected to clear bags of liquid helped maintain the illusion of normality. It was only a closer look that revealed the cracks in the façade.

The most obvious clue seemed rather innocent. Lying limply on the blanket was the man's hand. His gloved hand. There was no reason why a patient lying unconscious in a recovery room would be wearing brown gloves, especially after someone went to all the trouble of placing the patient in a hospital gown. A hospital gown that remarkably possessed long sleeves rather than the more standard short-sleeved ones. And if he studied the slight gap between the edge of the sleeve and the glove, Chief Quimby could glimpse the tiniest hint of metal. But it was still a rather impressive illusion of normality. The man couldn't help wondering if it was for the benefit of any visitors that might come to see the patient or for the inspector himself in order to keep him calm upon waking to find the changes to his body.

Penny's hesitancy to reach for her injured uncle, clearly warring between a fear of harming him further and a desire to assure herself he was really alive, finally settled down into a decision. She withdrew her hand from where it hovered over his and quietly sat down in a chair someone was kind enough to provide the room with. Chief Quimby didn't need to be a genius to know that she needed to be alone at the moment. Her body language as she curled up in the seat declared it rather firmly.

"I'll be out here if you need me," he stated. "Let me know when you're ready to go."

He waited until the seven year old nodded in acknowledgment before stepping out of sight. This wasn't exactly in his job description, neither as chief of police for Metro City nor his role as someone involved in more international matters, but it needed to be done. When focusing on the crime itself, it was far too easy to forget the victims. But he couldn't do that when one of his own was the one who was hit. And it was already clear from the forensic team that the explosion wasn't an accident. Perhaps Inspector Gadget could offer some insight into matters when he woke up. Regardless, Chief Quimby intended to figure out who was behind this attack. No one hurt any of his men and got away with it.

* * *

Penny sat there, staring at his bruised and burnt face and drawing at least some comfort from the fact she could still recognize Uncle Gadget. It was still his face and that meant it was really him in the bed. That meant he was really alive.

That simple concept was enough to undo the tight painful knot of emotions wedged into her chest and she finally allowed herself to break down into tears. From the moment the Metro City police, their faces vaguely familiar from her occasional visit to the station to see where her uncle worked when he wasn't in the field, arrived at her front door with solemn expressions and the news of an accident at her mother's lab, she'd been trapped in a state of painful numbness. Even when she was brought to the police station and Chief Quimby took charge of her before a social worker could arrive to take her away and undoubtedly separate her from Brain, she couldn't quite accept the enormity of what was happening. Intellectually, she knew what they were telling her, but all her feelings were tied up in a tangled lump that made breathing hurt. She couldn't even hope because a single emotion that might escape the tight knot would shatter her heart and the girl herself. Only now, with tangible proof that she wasn't completely alone, did she at last break down.

They were really gone. Her mom and dad were gone. She wouldn't wake up to the smell of Mom's pancakes. She'd never hear Dad joking about how it wasn't fair his daughter was too smart to help with her homework ever again. She wouldn't see them smile or hear them laugh. They wouldn't be there when she came home from school or to tuck her in at night. They wouldn't be there to send her to her first dance, to teach her to drive, to meet her first boyfriend, or to watch her graduate high school. She'd never get another hug or kiss from them. She'd never heart them chatting about their job or tell her how proud they were of her. Her house would remain empty and wouldn't be home anymore. They were really gone.

Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed quietly. It hurt to think about what happened, about all that she lost. But the longer she cried, the more the tight knot in her chest loosened. Slowly the tears began to shift from those of loss to those of relief concerning what she still had. It still hurt, but could have been worse. She wasn't completely alone. She still had Uncle Gadget.

Sniffling slightly, Penny looked back at the unconscious figure. She almost _did_ lose him. And his job was a dangerous one. But if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she couldn't let something like this happen again. She needed to keep her uncle safe or she'd truly be alone. And she couldn't lose anyone else. While some might doubt her capacity to keep her uncle safe due to only being seven years old, Penny knew she'd find a way. She couldn't afford to fail. He was the only family she had left.

"Excuse me, my dear," an unexpected voice interrupted her thoughts. As she quickly wiped away the tears in an attempt to look more composed, the speaker continued, "Are you quite all right?"

As she nodded, she turned to look at the man entering the room. He was older, his hair and mustache white with age and matched his lab coat in shade. His movements were aided by the use of a cane. He also looked rather tired. But even if he looked like someone's quirky grandfather, there was a gleam in his eye that matched the one Penny's mother used to have when inspiration struck. She knew an inventor when she saw one.

"My name's Professor Von Slickstein," he remarked, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I'm Penny," she replied. "And this is my Uncle Gadget."

A look of recognition briefly flickered across his face before he nodded, "Yes, well, I suppose you could say I'm quite acquainted with your uncle by now, though we haven't had the pleasure of a proper introduction. You see, I'm the one responsible for the procedure last night. Well, me and Dr. Lewis. But the technology and gadgets were my work." When she continued to stare at him expectantly, he asked, "No one's explained all of this, have they?"

"Only the basics," she confirmed.

"I see," he muttered. "I intend to give Inspector Gadget a more thorough description when he awakens, but I suppose I can provide a general overview of what we did concerning your uncle. Keep in mind that most of what we did was still experimental and likely no to be mainstream medicine for quite some time. It can be so difficult to gain subjects for human testing." He shook his head briefly, "Thank goodness for those who sign forms without reading the fine print or else we'd be even further behind in breakthroughs."

Professor Von Slickstein took a moment to study the readings on some of the machines connected to her uncle. Penny recognized the heart monitor from television, but she couldn't identify the others. Regardless, the man seemed to be satisfied by the information they provided and continued his explanation.

"I suppose you could divide them into two categories. The first half of them is the more essential additions. They're the ones that are helping keep him alive, working automatically and fulfilling the same functions his body used to perform on its own. Those are more likely to be accepted into mainstream medicine in the near future, though there's no guarantee. After all, the artificial pacemaker took decades to develop properly from a clever concept in 1899 to the first clinical installation into someone in 1958. And of course, they were _still_ working the bugs out during that time, but I'm drifting a little off topic. Besides, what I've been working on and installed were certainly more complicated than a pacemaker." He allowed himself a small smile of pride before continuing, "While the first set of additions are intend to try maintaining his life and returning it to its old state, the other additions are my unique way to _improve_ his life beyond that to something better than before. They're a variety of gadgets installed into his body to ensure he is prepared for whatever situation might arise. While the first set of mechanics is automatically performed, the second set should be under his control. An easy comparison would be how you breathe without thinking about it, but talking involves you actually deciding to do so."

He stepped around the bed and patient so that Professor Von Slickstein ended up on the same side as Penny. He met her eyes with his own, apparently trying to ensure that his audience understood before he continued with his explanation.

"I added those gadgets for two reasons. The first is because there is no telling when the next time I'll get to test them on an actual person might be. I've been working on the different ideas for them for quite some time to the point where I was afraid I wouldn't be able to find a recipient before I die of old age. Second, with his particular career, he'll need all the help he can get. And he's certainly a lot more durable now than before."

The girl nodded thoughtfully at his words, absorbing the information in the same way she used to her parents' descriptions of their projects at work. She didn't know whether to be upset at the idea of Professor Von Slickstein using her uncle as a guinea pig for the more unnecessary additions, curious about what sort of gadgets that were added to him, or simply grateful that he _did_ help Uncle Gadget. She eventually decided that she preferred having an obviously brilliant man go above and beyond what was necessary to save her uncle than for Professor Von Slickstein not to have helped at all. Even if the inventor added a bunch of gadgets, he seemed to think they would be helpful to Uncle Gadget and wanted to make things better even while seizing the opportunity to test out his creations on a real person. And maybe her uncle did sign something saying they could do this to him. One of the things her dad used to say about why a lot of scientists worked with animals was because humans have to give their permission before you could do much experimenting on them. So they must have figured out a way to ask her uncle first, right?

Besides, it was like what she said to Chief Quimby earlier, when she still had her brave face on. As long as Uncle Gadget was all right, they'd figure things out. It didn't matter to her what kind of inventions and gadgets were inside him now. He was still her family. They'd find a way to make everything work.

Once again, Penny felt a strong desire to reach out and touch her uncle, to hold his hand or hug him tightly. It still felt surreal and part of her was afraid that it would turn out to be a dream and she'd awaken back on Chief Quimby's couch with _no one_ left. But she didn't want to risk hurting him either. She could see that his face wasn't in the best condition, but she couldn't tell how bad the rest of him might be since he was wearing one of those hospital gown things. But the fact that he was in an explosion the day before made her nervous that she might make things worse somehow by touching him.

Some of her desire for contact with her uncle must have shown on her face because Professor Von Slickstein abruptly remarked, "You know, my dear, you don't have to be afraid of breaking him. As I said, he's far more resilient now than before. And while I'd be careful of his chest and face for a little while, you won't harm anything if you want to hold his hand or touch his shoulder." Giving her a small grin, he turned back towards the door, "Please take care of yourself, Penny. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or your uncle. Especially after all that work putting him back together again."

As he stepped out of the room and turned his attention towards something out of sight, quite likely Chief Quimby since he promised to wait for her out in the hall, Penny finally reached over and gently grasped Uncle Gadget's gloved hand. Instantly, she frowned slightly. It felt different. She knew what her uncle's hand felt like, just like she could have recognized her mother's favorite perfume or her father's footsteps. Even if she didn't see Uncle Gadget every day, she spent enough time with him over the years to recognize his hand by touch and what she was holding wasn't right. It was close, but not quite.

It was close to the right size or at least close enough that she couldn't tell the difference. Even the finger length was fairly correct. But it felt different. Underneath the brown glove, his hand felt stiff and hard in comparison to what she remembered. His fingers and thumb felt similarly firm. It didn't feel right or natural to the girl and she finally started wondering about the presence of gloves on her uncle's hands in the first place. Before she'd been too distracted by the more obvious damage to his face and Professor Von Slickstein's vague descriptions of what was added. Now, spotting a faint gleam of metal underneath the edge of the glove, she was beginning to wonder what was lost.

Curiosity compelled her to investigate further. Without releasing her light grip on her uncle's hand, Penny leaned over his unconscious figure. Hesitantly, her fears of hurting him still lurking in the back of her mind, the girl gently placed her ear to his chest and listened. Clicks, quiet whirling, and strange mechanical sounds were audible underneath the thin blanket and hospital gown. Noises that had no right to be coming from Uncle Gadget and belonged in a movie about robots continued to emerge with the prefect regularity of clockwork. Perhaps there even _was_ actual clockwork involved somehow. She couldn't even guess what all the gadgets that Professor Von Slickstein might have devised. The sounds were soft and wouldn't even be noticeable if she wasn't pressing her ear on his chest to listen to them. Like the hand that no longer felt quite the same in her grip as before, the foreign noises of machinery whirling away in his chest showed that the changes more clearly than mere words.

The question of exactly how much of him was now mechanical flickered through her mind. Twenty-five percent? Fifty? _Ninety_? What if he woke up and there wasn't enough of him left to really be considered Uncle Gadget anymore? Would he remember her? Would he still act like himself or would he be more like a robot from television?

As these doubts kept creeping up on her, Penny continued to listen to the strange symphony of whirls, clicks, and clacks. After getting used to the regularity of the mechanical noises, the child began to notice a more familiar one underneath the newer sounds. This one also followed a constant rhythm, but felt more natural and less manufactured. The steady thumping belonged in her uncle's chest and she couldn't resist smiling slightly at the soothing sound. No matter how much might be replaced with machinery and gadgets, she could still hear his heartbeat. That much was still Uncle Gadget; the man he was before Professor Von Slickstein started helping him with his inventions. And if at least that much was still his old self, then there was probably plenty more that wasn't replaced and her brief fears about him not being who he used to be were likely unfounded.

Lifting her head, she looked back at his battered face and whispered, "Don't worry, Uncle Gadget. We'll be all right. Just make sure you get better and wake up. I still need you."

She squeezed the too-stiff hand a little tighter. She didn't know for certain if he'd be able to feel it even if he was awake, but she wanted to at least try and let him know that she was there anyway. She'd have to leave soon to go back with Chief Quimby, even if she didn't want to leave him alone. Or to be left alone herself. But she couldn't stay here all day, even if someone would let her. She still needed to take care of Brain and Chief Quimby undoubtedly would have to go to the police station later. Penny did plan to try and come back as often as possible until her Uncle Gadget was released though.

It wasn't like she had anywhere else she'd want to be. School would be too dull and she'd have to face all those pitying eyes from classmates and teachers alike. Chief Quimby's house, while nice, wasn't exactly somewhere she was comfortable either. She appreciated him allowing her to stay, but she'd also be happier when she wasn't sleeping on his couch with a few of her belongings in a backpack. And home certainly wasn't an option. The silence and emptiness was too much for her to deal with. She couldn't go there yet. Honestly, the chair in the recovery room was the best choice in her opinion. But she couldn't stay.

As she started to stand up, a slight movement captured her attention. She didn't know if it was simply due to gravity or an actual reflex from the unconscious man, but the fingers on his gloved hand were now slightly curled around her smaller hand. Whether or not her uncle was aware of it, he was now returning Penny's grip and it was more of a sign of life than she'd seen since entering the room. Like the sound of his still-human heart beating, it was comforting to the girl and she sat back down. She wanted to hold onto him a little longer.

* * *

Funeral arrangements for Mr. and Mrs. Dollar were taken care of by their coworkers once it became known that no one else was in any condition to deal with those issues. The pair was popular enough at work that they didn't mind and those who worked with Sophie felt especially obliged since they could have easily shared their fate. Helping with final arrangements was the least they could do. And while plenty of coworkers and other scientists attended, Penny was the only family member to attend the service. Dressed in black with Brain following loyally, the girl sat near the front of the funeral home with Chief Quimby and his wife, completely refusing to look at the twin caskets. They were closed for obvious reasons, but she didn't want to look at them. She didn't want her last memories of her parents to be them in wooden boxes that would soon be buried in the ground. And she certainly didn't want to start crying again, this time in front of a large number of strangers.

Even when different people came to offer their condolences to the child and to quietly inquire the police chief about who she was going to stay with now that her parents were gone, Penny tried to tune them out. She forced her thoughts away from the reality of what remained of her parents and tried to think of more hopeful things. It still hurt too much to focus on their deaths, so she tried her best to avoid it. She thought about happier times from the past or considered her Uncle Gadget.

He still wasn't awake. She would have been concerned by the fact he was unconscious for few days already, but during her second visit before coming to the funeral service, she encountered Dr. Lewis. The brown-haired man informed her that it her uncle would likely be in a state of unconsciousness for a little longer and it was probably best for him to remain that way until he was further along in recovery and they were one hundred percent certain there wouldn't be any complications due to Professor Slickstein's inventions. If they felt Uncle Gadget still being unconscious still was nothing to worry about, then it was probably all right. That didn't stop her from wishing he'd wake up though so she could be _certain_ he was fine.

Penny was not the only one at the funeral for her parents that was thinking of more than the two poor souls lying in the coffins. Chief Quimby's mind kept turning over the small pieces of evidence gathered from the scene of the crime, trying to find a solid clue to lead him to the one responsible for the placing the Dollars in those caskets and for sending a third man practically to death's door. Most of the possible evidence was destroyed in the explosion unfortunately, so he kept revisiting the same small hints repeatedly. The fact that the one who actually planted the bomb was also no longer among the living due to Dr. Claw's displeasure with utter failure might have been helpful to the police chief, but the leader of MAD would not likely be sharing that in the near future.

And while he only stayed a short amount of time, Professor Von Slickstein did attend and ordered a few flowers. He'd rather liked Sophie Dollar and he'd always remember their scientific discussions fondly. He didn't dare remain too long, however. Even if the man was recovering and there were people there who could handle most medical problems that might occur, there was still a chance that one of his creations might not be perfect and could begin causing trouble for Inspector Gadget. After all, that was an inherit danger of prototypes and initial test subjects. If there were no problems for a couple of more days and the life-sustaining equipment _especially_ continued to operate correctly, he'd be more willing to accept the entire procedure a success. Until then, he'd be more comfortable remaining on hand to deal with any difficulties that might arise. Besides, the elderly inventor knew it would be best if someone with a familiarity with the gadgets was on hand whenever the patient awoke.

Once the final words were spoken and the two identical coffins were transferred to the hearse, the friends and coworkers began filing out to their own vehicles. Penny wanted to go back Chief Quimby's house or, even better, that chair next to her Uncle Gadget. She didn't want to go to the cemetery and be around by all of those grave stones, watching most of her family be placed in the ground. She didn't want to be surrounded by the dead. It scared her and she was forced to think about her lost parents and her future. She didn't want to go there and face those thoughts, but she needed to go. Uncle Gadget couldn't go, so she was the only family member who could. And as hard as it would be to go to the cemetery, she needed to say goodbye to her mom and dad. She loved them enough to do things right.

Gently scratching behind Brain's ears, the girl allowed herself to be led back to Chief Quimby's car so they could follow the hearse.

**Okay, I'm hoping this will end up as only a three-shot. It just keeps growing in length. I don't know how long it might take for part three, but I'll post it eventually.**

**Oh, and just in case you're wondering, I figured out a general timeline. The series started in 1983 with Penny at age ten. That would mean she was born in 1973. Assuming that her mother would have been at a minimum of twenty-five when she had Penny, that would place Inspector Gadget's childhood during the 50s and 60s. And that would also mean that the current year in my story would be 1980. And now you know.**

**I appreciate feedback and I'm very thankful for my two reviewers so far. You've made me smile.**


	3. Awake

**Thanks for the feedback so far. Even if this particular piece of fanfiction has grown far beyond what I originally intended, I am somewhat enjoying myself. After all, can I claim that I'm suffering from insanity if I'm having fun with it?**

**Time for a certain individual to return to the land of the living. I hope you enjoy.**

Drifting between true consciousness and unconsciousness felt too perfect. Waking up never seemed so hard. He was generally eager to get up in the morning and head out to his job. After all, Inspector Gadget was never off duty. Crime never slept, so he needed to always be prepared. But he was really having trouble this time trying to return to consciousness. He momentarily contemplated just going back to sleep for just a few more minutes. He could probably still make it on time and even if he was just a little late, Chief Quimby would likely understand and only yell about it a little. After what just happened, he'd…

What did just happen? His brain felt like it was made of wet cement and trying to dig through it for information was almost too much effort, but he was fairly certain something major occurred. And bad. Maybe whatever it was that happened was connected to why it felt so difficult to force himself awake. He'd have to mentally retrace his steps a little to figure things out and the only way to do that would be to plow through thick and heavy mess clogging his thoughts.

There was something about Sophie. Did he go visit her? That sounded about right. He remembered her and Frank. They were at her lab. They needed to tell him something. Something important and potentially dangerous. Right? That sounded sort of right. He couldn't really tell though and trying to recall was giving him a headache. Maybe if he just rested a few more minutes…

No, he needed to wake up and figure out what happened. The more he struggled against the vague uncertain memories of what was going on, the more it became obvious that sleep wasn't the answer. He couldn't remember what happened concerning his sister when he visited her and he wasn't usually _that_ forgetful. Not to mention a sense of dread that was slowly creeping up on him. Whatever happened wasn't good. He needed to wake up properly and drag his mind out of the sluggish muck clogging up his thoughts. Besides, the sooner he figured this out, the sooner he could get back to his job. Someone had to stop MAD…

Wait, there was something about MAD. He remembered Frank mentioning it. Why would he be talking about them? Did something happen or someone say something to them about the group? If he and Sophie heard that name, that almost guaranteed trouble. That thought was enough to force him to completely reject further rest as an option.

Struggling towards full consciousness was a surprisingly difficult uphill battle. He far preferred this vague state of semi-awareness where it seemed so simple to slip back into slumber. Waking up was harder. It might make it easier to think, but it was also increasing that slight headache…

Actually, his head wasn't the only thing aching. His chest felt pounded, like the time he was trampled by goats at the petting zoo as a kid. Only worse. And everything felt so heavy. The idea of raising his head seemed impossible. And even though he felt exhausted, the heaviness was not _just_ because he was tired. He felt weighed down by his own body, trapped by something unexplainable and strange. Nothing seemed right.

Why would he feel so tired, pounded, and like everything weighed a ton? Why did he have this growing concern about his sister and her husband's safety? Why did he remember Frank mentioning MAD? What happened to him?

When he first tried opening his eyes, he was immediately forced to shut them against the bright light above him. His second attempt worked a little better and he got a glimpse of an unfamiliar white ceiling. As he tried to make sense of his strange surroundings, he realized that there was a soft beeping sound close by. In fact, the sound had apparently been going on for quite some time and he'd not noticed the background noise until now. It was probably best since the beeping wasn't really helping his headache. Though, something told him that the pain in his head, throughout his chest, and the general aching across his body should be far worse.

Still trying to get his bearings, he shifted his eyes slightly to the side and caught sight of a number of machines and wires leading from them towards him. While initially this only served to further his confusion, he finally worked his way past the disorienting sluggish thoughts in his head enough for understanding to dawn on him properly. He was lying in a strange white room, hooked up to several machines, and feeling like he hit his head harder than usual. Those facts added up to one simple conclusion: he was in a hospital for some reason. He didn't know how or why he ended up there, but it wasn't good.

"Wowsers," he muttered, his voice sounding more like a dry croak than what he normally sounded like. "What hit me?"

When he unsurprisingly didn't receive a response from the empty room, Gadget decided to try sitting up. Since he was slowly waking up properly, he was mildly hopeful. The fact his body still felt oddly heavy and not quite right might hinder his attempt, but he intended to try. He wasn't going to figure out what was going on if the only thing he could see was the ceiling and a few machines. As he moved his arm, the sense that something was not right increased dramatically.

Before he could figure out what was exactly wrong, approaching footsteps caught his attention. Curious, he quickly shoved himself into a sitting position and instantly regretted it as his head swam and the ache through his entire body sharpened. The sensation almost forced him back down and possibly back into unconsciousness, but he managed to stay upright and caught sight of the older man as he stepped into the room. The new arrival looked surprised, but pleased that he was awake and the white lab coat implied he was some sort of doctor.

"Good morning, Inspector Gadget," the older man greeted, approaching the bed and peering curiously at him. "This is certainly a promising development. My name is Professor Von Slickstein. Can you tell me how you're feeling?"

"Tired, sore, and a little confused," he responded. "What happened?"

"Well, the fact you can understand and respond to me is certainly a good sign," the white-haired man stated. "I know Dr. Lewis expressed some concerns about that when we were busy with your head."

He blinked, "My head?"

Gadget reached and gingerly touched his temple, ignoring the continued feeling that something was wrong when he moved his arm. He caught sight of a brown glove on his hand as he reached, but also shoved that observation out of his mind for the moment.

Even through the glove, he could feel something wrapped around his head and the contact increased his headache. It felt strange. Not the object, which seemed to be some kind of bandage and he half-expected to find such a thing anyway. No, his sense of _touch_ felt strange. It felt… off. It wasn't quite right. Like so many things since he'd woken up, it seemed wrong. The information about the general texture of the gauze, where the edge of the bandages were, and even a guess about how thick the layers were around his head were certainly going from his fingertips to his head, but there was something vaguely different about the sensation and how he was perceiving. Maybe it was a little less intense or not quite as distinct as what he was used to, though that might be merely the glove getting in the way instead. But there was this quality, paradoxically reminding him of how a limb would feel if it fell asleep if the pins-and-needles sensation was removed, that suggested it was more than just the glove. There were no words to describe the difference, yet it was there regardless.

Curious, he lowered his arm and glanced at his gloved hand. In addition to the general oddness of his sense of touch, there seemed to be a slight stiffness to his movements. It was subtle, but he could feel it. And there was a soft sound, somewhere between a squeak and a creak.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this," Von Slickstein remarked, pulling his attention temporarily away from the mystery concerning his hand and arm, "but there was an accident. Apparently there was an explosion at the lab you were at. They brought you here for treatment afterwards."

At the reference to an explosion, Gadget's immediate thoughts were no longer concerning himself. Instead, they raced back to his memories of Sophie and Frank's presence in the lab and the fact his recollection of what happened afterwards was hazy. And if he was caught up in some sort of explosion (which could explain some of his symptoms since waking up), then what happened to them?

"Was there anyone else? Are Sophie and Frank Dollar all right or are they in another room?" he asked.

An odd look of discomfort and regret briefly flashed across the older man's face. Gadget momentarily didn't know what was wrong, but the general meaning of his expression eventually dawned on him. They weren't just hurt; they were _gone_. His little sister, the brilliant woman who accomplished her dream and that he loved dearly, was gone. That was almost a more shocking and painful blow than the explosion itself. The information seemed to rattle a few more memories loose. He could recall them mentioning threats from MAD in exchange for their inventions and a brief fear that there could be a danger to Penny…

Penny. His niece. What happened to her? Was she all right? Did MAD go after her after the explosion? Probably not since she wouldn't be able to serve as blackmail material for the inventions of her parents anymore. But where was she? If Sophie and Frank were really gone, then she was alone. As bad as it was for him to imagine a world without his sister and brother-in-law, it would be far worse for Penny. She lost her parents. She could just be heart-broken over events or she could actually be in real trouble. Either way, he needed to find her and help her fast.

"Penny," asked Gadget. "Where is she? Is she all right?"

"She's fine," the white-haired man assured. "She's been staying with Chief Quimby for the time being. She visited here a few times earlier and I saw her at the funeral for her parents. She'll be very happy to hear that you're awake though."

He frowned, "I missed the funeral? I don't know whether to be upset about that or relieved. I never wanted to go to my sister's funeral after all, but that was mostly because I didn't want her to _have_ one. At least, not while I was around for it."

"You almost _joined_ their funeral," Von Slickstein stated. "I'm not one that generally subscribes to the concept of miracles, but that's probably the best explanation for why you survived long enough to receive help, Inspector. We needed to take some rather drastic measures to ensure your recovery and, honestly, I added a few touches beyond those necessary for survival." His fingers tightened slightly on his cane, "I'd tell you to sit down before I told you the news, but since you're lying in a hospital bed already…" He trailed off briefly before clearing his throat and asking, "Do you recall some paperwork you filled out a while ago concerning hospitalization, life-saving procedures, advanced techniques, and such?"

Gadget nodded, wincing slightly as the movement agitated his headache further. He should probably avoid head movements for the immediate future.

He definitely remembered the paperwork the man was talking about. It occurred a couple of years ago when he was trying to fill out an overwhelming amount of paperwork dealing with health and life insurance rates that seemed to keep rising. He'd asked his sister to assist in trying to figure out a way to make it more manageable. Apparently his career choice wasn't one the insurance people enjoyed covering due to the various risks. One of the forms that Sophie pointed out to him concerned newer and experimental procedures that were continuously being developed. The paperwork might have as well been in gibberish to him, but she seemed to understand it and translated the legal talk into something comprehensible. Apparently the more advanced methods weren't always covered by insurance since, while they could be more effective, the fact they were newer meant they might not be dependable or safe. More risk means more money spent when things went wrong, so the companies preferred time-tested methods instead. But Sophie worried about him and encouraged him to sign several forms saying they could use the more advanced and experimental procedures if the worst should happen. After all, she assured him that she would cross-examine the doctors first to ensure that he got the best treatment possible and that the advanced procedures actually had a high chance of succeeding before they did anything. And because he knew his sister would worry otherwise, Gadget signed it with the knowledge that such things weren't covered by his far-too-complicated insurance.

The only problem was that Sophie was gone. She wasn't able to make those kinds of judgments concerning his health and he'd been asleep through the whole thing. With only the signed form to dictate the doctors' actions and Gadget's limited comprehension of what exactly the paper specified, there was no guessing what could have happened. But, as his more optimistic thoughts pointed out, the fact he was alive and apparently not currently dying from being blown up suggested that the chosen procedures couldn't have been that bad.

"Well, if you remember that document, I guess I should tell you that I _may_ have stretched the definition of 'radical life-saving procedures' a little in order to consider it permission for my actions," Von Slickstein acknowledged. "But I had nothing but good intentions and wanted the best for Sophie Dollar's brother."

"You're familiar with her work then?" asked Gadget, guessing that the older man might have read her research or something similar.

"Among other things," he nodded. "And I know that you love your job as an inspector. In fact, everyone agrees that you would be miserable if you couldn't do your job."

"Of course," Gadget responded. "I'm always on duty."

"Well, you nearly went off-duty _permanently_. Even if we ignore the fact that most of the damage caused by the explosion would have been fatal without drastic measures, you wouldn't have been able to work in the field afterwards because, to be blunt, you wouldn't have any limbs. Your arms and legs were beyond salvaging and what was left had to be amputated."

He blinked in confusion at Von Slickstein's words before glancing at his hand. It certainly looked like he still had his limbs. Although, he already knew that something was off about it…

"Artificial limbs were just the start of the more noticeable changes. I'll bring you a full list and description, but I've installed a number of inventions into your body that should enhance your crime-fighting capabilities. For example, your new limbs and neck can extend, there is a phone installed in one hand, skates, and even a miniature helicopter attachment. These various gadgets should help ensure that you're always at your best as an inspector and that you're safe while facing criminals. They're voice-command to make them easier to use and hopefully reliable."

Gadget continued to stare at his gloved hand. He flexed his fingers, watching them move exactly how they were supposed to with maybe a hint of stiffness. They didn't feel quite right; his sense of touch still not matching up perfectly to what he expected. The fact it wasn't his original hand made sense, especially since it would be too much to ask for to come out unharmed from an accident that killed Sophie and Frank, but it was a little concerning. He woke up with four new limbs and who knows what else. His sister used to be talented at creating technological wonders, but that didn't mean he was prepared to have it all attached to him.

At least the replacement arms and legs didn't ache. There were probably some painkillers involved that needed their dosage adjusted since his headache was getting worse and the loss of limbs hinted at far more damage than he first anticipated. He should be a lot more pain. Unless there was a lot more mechanical parts than he thought and they were the reason he wasn't feeling worse. How far did it go? How much of him was still… him? Could he go through life like this, his sense of touch not quite right while apparently strange gadgets were hidden just out of sight? For just a brief second, he wondered if it would have been easier if he'd shared his sister and brother-in-law's fate.

And as soon as that idea tried to form, he knocked it down like the numerous fragile vases and bookshelves he'd encountered over the years. Penny needed him. He couldn't leave her alone. He couldn't let her down. Sophie wouldn't want her daughter to be left alone in the world and John Maxwell Gadget would never disappoint his sister. A few missing limbs and slightly strange sense of touch was a small price to pay to make sure she was okay. It might be hard to get used to, for both him and those he knew, but he'd be there for his niece regardless.

Besides, he'd figure out how to make everything work out in the end. That's how the world worked. The good guys always prevail as long as they don't give up and he was certainly one of the good guys. Thus, if Inspector Gadget decided that everything would work out and he'd be fine, then he would find a way to make certain of it. And Professor Von Slickstein did say that he intended this to help him be a better inspector. He couldn't be too upset about anything that might help him uphold the law and halt criminals.

It wasn't too bad when examined like that. He was alive. He could take care of Penny and keep her safe. He could still do his job. Everything else was merely details. And details tended to just get in his way.

Looking up from his hand (his new hand, but still _his_ hand), Gadget noticed that Von Slickstein was watching him a little nervously. The professor probably wanted some sort of response or acknowledgement after his prolonged silence. The older man likely was waiting to see how he'd react to all the changes and information so far.

Smiling in a hopefully reassuring way, Gadget joked, "I guess I can't say that I know my way around Metro City like the back of my hand now. At least, not for a while."

Responding with his own small grin, Von Slickstein remarked, "Don't worry, you'll get used to all of this fairly quickly I'll suspect. Especially after I work out any bugs that might occur due to the prototype technology."

"What sort of bugs?" he asked curiously. "Because while I'm not scared of spiders, I'm not a huge fan."

Gadget couldn't quite figure out why his question left the professor laughing, but Von Slickstein moved forward to what was shaping up to be a rather complicated-sounding explanation.

* * *

Penny was working at training Brain when Chief Quimby received the phone call. She already figured out that her new pet was far more than what he first seemed to be. He was clever, quick to learn commands and phrases, and practically behaved as if he understood every word she said. It didn't take a genius to figure out the connection between the gift from her father and his work with animals. She didn't know why her puppy was a science experiment, but she didn't mind having an extra-smart pet. Though she was surprised by how much he liked wearing hats and such, sniffing out a number of costumes in the household. Far more than she expected a police chief to own.

She barely noticed the telephone call as the girl worked at teaching Brain to identify a number of common objects. Her attention did shift away from the canine when she caught sight of Chief Quimby's expression. Penny couldn't quite identify the emotions, but it certainly captured her interest. In fact, judging by how the man kept glancing in her direction, she guessed that the conversation connected to her somehow. A variety of possibilities flickered through Penny's head, ranging from a breakthrough concerning her parents' death to someone trying to move her to an orphanage. As soon as Chief Quimby hung the receiver back on the wall, she braced herself for whatever the news might be.

So when the man shared the information and suggested she grab her jacket, Penny broke into a smile. Uncle Gadget was awake.

* * *

While most of her trips down the clean and quiet hallways, Penny tended to remain calm and close to Chief Quimby as he escorted her. Today, it was all she could do not to run ahead. After all, it wasn't as if she didn't know which way to go. She wouldn't get lost. But regardless of how eager she might be to see her uncle, she couldn't just run off after how kind the man had been by taking her in. She didn't need to cause trouble for the chief of police.

But by the time she caught sight of the room at the end of the hall, her resolve buckled and Penny sprinted ahead. She slipped inside, her eyes instantly locking on the man in the bed. He was peering at a stack of papers with a slight frown. That expression evaporated as soon as she ran into view. She kept herself from jumping towards him and tackling him with a hug; the bruises on his face were still in the process of fading, so it was doubtful the rest of him was back to normal. But even if she didn't launch herself, Penny still wrapped him with her arms in a tight hug within seconds. She barely noticed that she knocked a few sheets of paper to the floor. His arms and chest felt more solid and stiff than she remembered, but she didn't care. She was simply too happy when her uncle returned the gesture.

"Uncle Gadget, you're awake," she smiled, burying her face into his chest.

Even without looking, she knew he was smiling back at her, "Penny, I'm so glad to see you. Are you all right?"

She couldn't help chuckling at the absurdity of the situation. Uncle Gadget was the one who was blown up, rebuilt, and ended up in a hospital bed, yet he was asking if _she_ was all right? But she knew she should have expected such a thing from her uncle. Penny finally released her tight embrace and looked at his face.

"I'm fine,' she answered. "I've been staying with Chief Quimby while everything's been happening. And he's been really nice about everything. Are _you_ okay?"

Something briefly flashed across his face before he adopted a reassuring grin, "More or less. I mean, I'm not quite myself since…"

"_Yes_, you are," Penny interrupted firmly. She didn't know how this sort of thing would affect someone, but she wouldn't let her uncle get upset over the idea if she could help it. That was part of protecting him. "I already know they fixed you by adding a bunch of machinery and gadgets and I don't care. You're still Uncle Gadget, no matter what. Nothing will ever change that."

Her words seemed to have the desired effect, causing a warmer and more determined smile to spread across his face. Satisfied, Penn gave him another quick hug. She knew she could get used to the sensation of being embraced by metal arms. As long as they were still Uncle Gadget's arms.

A little hesitantly, he quietly stated, "Penny, I really don't know how to bring this up, but I have a spare bedroom at my house that you're welcome to if you want it. Or if you'd rather keep your old room and home, I'll try to work something out."

"Your house is fine," she answered immediately, trying not to let her expression change and to keep her tone causal.

She didn't mind moving to Uncle Gadget's place. It was easier than staying at home. There were too many memories for her to face. A fresh start in a different house would be better than staying and dealing with the emptiness.

And she wasn't even surprised that he was trying to plan things out for her future even if he'd only woken up that day. He wanted to make sure she was taken care of. He'd probably even want to leave immediately to either help her pack or to start investigating the circumstances that led to her parents' demise. She just hoped that someone would be smart enough and capable of keeping him from running off before he was completely better.

Uncle Gadget's attention momentarily shifted towards something beyond her and he called out, "Chief Quimby, you're here too."

Penny turned her head and spotted the police chief standing at the doorway, almost purposefully not getting too close to the man in the hospital bed. His face was a surprising mixture of emotions including relief to see him awake and relatively well, slight discomfort probably from interrupting a reunion between family, stern professionalism, and what appeared to be mild caution as if he expected to suffer some form of harm simply by being in the same room as Uncle Gadget.

"It's good to see you awake, Gadget," the man nodded in greeting. "Let me be the first to assure you that we're already investigating what happened…"

"MAD," he interrupted.

"What?"

"MAD," Uncle Gadget repeated. "I remember Sophie and Frank talking about receiving threatening messages from them. That was why they invited me over. They were concerned and told me about it just before…"

He trailed off and Penny quietly edged a little closer to him. She didn't know who or what MAD was, but she intended to find out more if for no other reason than to make sure they never could hurt her family again.

"I see," Chief Quimby muttered thoughtfully. "That should certainly make things more complicated. But at least we have a direction now."

"I'll be happy to start helping immediately," he declared, actually shifting slightly as if he was about to climb out of the hospital bed.

"No, you are not," ordered the chief of police just as Penny reached out to try and hold her uncle in place. "I'm sorry, but you're going to be off-duty for a little while."

"But I'm always on-duty," he responded stubbornly.

"Not in this case, Inspector. This is a direct order and I expect you to follow it to the letter. You are not to leave here until the experts say you can go. Furthermore, you're going to at least take a short amount of time afterwards in order to look after your niece. She's been a very well-behaved houseguest and I don't regret letting her stay at my house under the circumstances, but it isn't ideal in the long term. It'll probably take you at least a few days to get her moved in and everything settled. You both deserve some time after everything that's happened and I order you to take it. If you want to consider yourself 'on-duty,' you can. But you're still going to follow those instructions or else I swear I'll stick you behind a desk pushing paperwork until Penny graduates from college."

There was a moment of relative silence. The only sounds came from the machinery attached to Uncle Gadget (rather than the softer sounds that she could only hear if she pressed her ear to his chest that were a part of him). Penny waited to see how her uncle would react to the chief of police's order. He certainly seemed to be considering the older man's words rather carefully, momentarily glancing at the girl before looking back towards Chief Quimby.

"I'd never disobey a direct command from you, Chief," he remarked slowly. "And I suppose waiting a few days wouldn't hurt anything. But if you need my help before then, I'll be happy to get back to work."

"I'm sure you would," nodded the older man. "Just concentrate on getting everything sorted out and trust the rest of us to handle the investigation until your return. After all, you're not the only member of the Metro City Police force."

Penny gave him a quick grin of thanks. She'd feel better knowing that her uncle would at least take a break before he tried chasing after the person who caused the explosion. She wanted to make sure he was completely back to normal (or whatever the new definition of "normal" was) before he went back to his job. At least Chief Quimby seemed to share that goal.

"I'm sorry we can't stay any longer today, Gadget," he continued. "You can probably only imagine how things have been at the station since… Well, I need to get back there and I think that Penny's school sent over some homework to help her catch up on what she's missed so far."

The girl resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the implication she was behind on her schoolwork. She finished it as soon as her teachers sent it with a note saying that they were sorry about what happened and would be happy to help her make up for her lost time. Considering the fact she's already read the textbook and her parents were already discussing the possibility of moving her ahead a grade or two before they died, the homework was child's play. But it wasn't as if she could stay here while Chief Quimby headed for the police station. That was one of the disadvantages of being child; people wanted you to be supervised at all times, so walking back to the chief's house later on her own wasn't an option. Maybe when she was older, but not when she was seven. Thus, the suggestion she do homework instead of staying.

"I wouldn't want you to fall behind in school," stated Uncle Gadget.

"Don't worry, I won't," she assured.

Pausing only long enough to give her uncle a final hug, she reluctantly started heading towards the door and Chief Quimby. As she allowed herself to be led out, she spared a final glance back towards Uncle Gadget. That brief glimpse allowed her to notice how tired he still looked and that he was probably only staying awake because of their presence. Penny immediately felt guilty for wanting to remain when it was clear that he needed the rest. It was more important he get better. It might take some time, but she could be patient.

He was alive, he woke up, he spoke to her, and he was on his way to recovery. That was enough for now.

* * *

Time passed and injuries healed. Bruises faded. Organic portions adapted to the mechanical. Headaches dulled away as both damage healed and the brain grew used to the new form of input. The mind is adaptive and Professor Von Slickstein designed his additions to work with the synapses as naturally as possible.

The first activation of the new attachments was an extension of his arm to catch the sheets of paper when he nearly dropped them for the twelfth time. It took several moments of staring at his lengthened arm, metal and segmented to allow for the extension, before Inspector Gadget could believe it. It took even longer to figure out how to retract the limb back to normal. By the point Professor Von Slickstein came to check on him, he was carefully experimenting at extending and retracting his artificial arms.

Before the scientist or Dr. Lewis would let him leave, Gadget was carefully and thoroughly examined and informed of his new capabilities and limitations. Some were obvious and others were less so. The doctor pointed out that the loss and replacement of various part of the body left the man with less than the normal volume of blood and mass in general, meaning that various substances including medication would have a stronger effect at the same dosage. Von Slickstein, on the other hand, cheerfully advised against activating the Gadget-Copter while inside a building and other helpful tips.

By the time he was released, Gadget was more than ready get out. After all, there was more important things he could be doing instead of staying in a hospital bed.

* * *

Penny glanced around the room curiously, her arms holding a small box of belongings. Brain waited patiently beside her, her backpack being dragged along in the puppy's eagerness to help. The room was neat and tidy. The dresser was bare of objects and decorations. The comforter on the bed was white and fluffy while the plain pillow rested against the headboard. It was exactly what a guestroom should look like. But it wasn't just a spare bedroom anymore. It was _hers_. This was going to be her room for now on.

It was Uncle Gadget's first day out and he was already trying to help her move in. At the moment, however, he was downstairs trying to prepare lunch. And, judging by the yelps coming from downstairs, he was discovering the fact that most of the food that sat in his fridge the entire time he was gone was now mutating into some strange blue fungus. Thus she was left to muddle through on her own until he finished battling the strange substance growing in there. And if the crashing and banging was anything to go off of, that particular war against the mold would be a long one.

Everything she'd taken to Chief Quimby's house was now here, though it wasn't really that many of her belongings. Mostly it was some clothes and school supplies. It would take some time to make the room feel like it actually was her, but she could at least make a start.

"You can leave my backpack next to the bed," she told Brain, watching him drag it over on her command.

As the golden-furred puppy followed her instructions eagerly, Penny headed for the closet with her clothes. When she opened it to put her belongings away, however, she noticed a cardboard box resting on the floor. Curiosity once again gaining the best of her, the blond girl placed her armful of shirts down and dragged the container over next to the bed. Out of the dark closet, she could make out far more details of what the box contained.

Inside was a large textbook, what looked like an odd watch, a collection of assorted wires and microchips, and a stack of paper. Puzzled, she pulled out the book and opened it. Inside the cover were, oddly, buttons and computer screens. She pressed a few keys experimentally, growing more confused by the moment. It seemed as if someone took a normal computer, miniaturized it, and then camouflaged it as a textbook.

Setting the book computer down, Penny then pulled out the watch. It was a little bulkier than most of them she was familiar with and it wasn't currently displaying the time, but it was clearly supposed to be a watch. She carefully strapped it on her wrist, turning it back and forth as she investigated the object. Curiosity still flaring, she started poking at the rectangle where the time should be displayed. Her examination of the watch abruptly caused a reaction and several panels unfolded. Once more, a rather impressive piece of technology was disguised as a more innocent-appearing object. But why would her Uncle Gadget have these sorts of things in the closet of his guest bedroom?

Turning her attention away from the watch now, she pulled out the first sheet of paper. It was covered in handwritten notes and schematics. Each illustration and careful notation was neatly recorded and labeled. The inner-workings of the computer book she found were displayed on the sheet of paper. Penny's eyes began to tear up as she recognized her mother's tidy penmanship.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to push back the urge to cry at the unexpected encounter with something so clearly connected to her mom. The writing was her mom's, so everything in the box was probably hers. Every wire, every microchip, and every circuit was the result of her mother's hard work and brilliant mind. Penny could easily picture her mom hovering over these devices, peering through her glasses as she tweaked small adjustments and smiling slightly the entire time. These were her inventions and materials. This was the pure essence of Sophie Dollar. She was a scientist. An inventor. A brilliant woman. Her mommy.

Shoving the box under her bed and out of sight, her resolve not to cry broke and tears began to flow in earnest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that her mom and dad were gone. None of this was fair. How could those MAD people do this? Why did they destroy everything? Was that all that was left of her parents? Small samples of their life-works? A clearly genetically-engineered puppy from her dad and a box of inventions from her mom? She didn't want pets and technology. She wanted her mommy and daddy back.

Choking back sobs, Penny sat on the floor next to her bed with her legs curled up and her head resting on her knees. She could hear Brain whining beside her, but she didn't move. She'd been avoiding the familiar and anything that might remind her of her parents until this point. She'd not been home since she received the news of the explosion and she'd definitely not looked at any photographs. But a simply box of her mom's creations brought back the memories far too easily. The handwriting was just too familiar. She could almost see her mom's hand as she wrote out measurements and sketched out the placement of microchips. It was as if she just stepped out of the room momentarily to grab a pair of needle-nose pliers and would be back any time. It was just too much to handle.

Her body shaking with sobs as she tried to at least stay quiet, her first hint that her attempts not to be noticeable had failed was when a pair of stiff and firm arms abruptly around her and pulled the child into a hug. Penny didn't even look up. Instead, she buried her face into the solid figure that appeared just when she needed him to. She continued to cry and cling to his chest, letting the strong arms lift her so that they're both sitting on the bed instead of beside it. He didn't say a word. He just held her in that solid, firm, immovable, steadfast embrace that felt as unbreakable as the metal used to help put him back together again.

The far-too-firm stiffness was comforting rather than strange. The solidness felt dependable and like nothing would take him away. It felt safe. For the moment, she didn't have to be the brilliant girl who could solve any puzzle and could answer any question her teacher might pose. She didn't have to be the one who would figure out how to keep the remainder of her family protected to prevent history from repeating. She didn't have to be the brave, mature individual who could handle whatever might happen. She could just be a sad seven year old child who wanted more than anything to have her mommy and daddy back.

She didn't pay attention to how long it took, but the sniffling and tears began to gradually slow. Penny didn't loosen her grip, though. She kept her tight hug on the reassuringly-solid figure, listening to the various clicks, whirls, and the steady heartbeat in his chest. Exhausted by the sobbing and lulled by the increasingly-familiar and comforting symphony of sounds, she barely noticed as she began to drift off to sleep.

**Yeah, I have a bad habit of making cute little girls cry in my stories apparently. And honestly, I think that a seven year old Penny has earned the right by now to have a small breakdown when unexpectantly encountering her mom's stuff. Dealing with loss, especially loss of someone rather fundamental to your life, isn't going to be quick or easy. Give her a little more time and she'll get better.**

**And there's the origin of Penny's computer book (which was a lot like a laptop **_**way**_** before the things existed) and her awesome watch she uses to keep in contact with Brain and such. Her mom made them and Penny adapted them for her use. As for Brain's collar with the camera and microphone, she does have other stuff in the box that she can use to make that. After all, she's a smart girl. She can build at least one of her pieces of technology herself.**

**I'm not even going to pretend I know how long this story is going to be anymore. It just keeps growing. Just let me know what you think and I'll tell you when it gets done. Thanks.**


	4. The Passing of Years

**I still have no idea about how long this is going to be anymore. Remember back when I thought it was going to be a one-shot? I miss that. I miss thinking I could even control my creativity that much. But everyone seems to like this so far. So on with the show. There's a minor reference to one of the episodes called "Gadget's Replacement," but you don't need to have seen it to understand anything.**

He loved Penny with all his heart. There was no question about that. He'd absolutely adored her since the start. He always loved being an uncle. But there was a drastic difference between just being an uncle and being a role model. He couldn't call himself a parent; that title would always belong to Sophie and Frank. But his relationship to Penny was different from before regardless.

Gadget held the crying girl until she fell asleep. He'd come to ask I she'd mind eating out since there was nothing in the fridge that could still be considered food. But then he found her in tears. He didn't know what to say to her. What can you say in this sort situation? All he could think to do for her was to hug her as tightly as he dared with his new limbs. It used to work during Sophie's childhood in the rare instances where he was taking care of his younger sister instead of the other way around.

After she fell asleep, Gadget carefully shifted her into the bed and pulled off her shoes. Her puppy quickly scrambled up and curled next to the girl. This wasn't how he expected their first day together to go. On the other hand, he didn't know how he thought it would go in the first place. Honestly, he didn't have a clue on how to proceed with her. Of course, that wouldn't stop him from trying his best.

Slipping out of the room and pulling the door closed behind him, the man headed towards the living room. For a moment, he considered going through the overly-technical manual again. He was still having trouble trying to understand all the gadgets and gizmos they stuck inside him and how they worked, though he was starting to remember a few of the more basic devices' operation. Gadget didn't know if it would be better to fully-understand what pieces of technology were installed or to remain ignorant of the exact details for his own peace of mind.

On careful consideration, Gadget decided not to go over those files again. He didn't like thinking about that at the moment. Instead, he pulled out a small book from the shelf and sat down on the couch. Opening it to the first page, he was greeted by a picture of Sophie in her wedding dress. He gave a sad smile as he slowly worked his way through the photo album. Everything was so simple back then.

* * *

A desire to do his best at taking care of Penny led the inspector to buying a few parenting books that evening when the pair left for dinner. The girl noticed his purchase, but didn't comment on it. She was simply content to have her uncle present.

With the release of John Maxwell Gadget from Professor Von Slickstein and Dr. Lewis's medical care, paperwork of a different sort finally managed to reach him. The Final Will and Testimonies of Sophie and Frank Dollar were read in the days after and the belongings were divided between the two remaining family members and a few close colleagues. The last of their earthly business was dealt with. All that remained was the more personal belongings and the house itself.

* * *

For the first time since the incident, Penny stepped into her old house. She felt more prepared this time for the invasion of memories in comparison to when she discovered the box of her mother's belongings. That didn't mean it completely banished the uneasy and heart-breaking silence. The emptiness pressed down on her and almost sent her scurrying back out the front door.

At least until Uncle Gadget tripped across the threshold and dropped the empty boxes he was carrying all over the floor. She couldn't help smiling slightly as she helped him retrieve the containers. It seemed impossible to be depressed for long while he was around. There was just something about him that managed to help banish those feelings, even if only temporarily.

"If you want to start packing things from your room, I'll work down here," he suggested.

Penny nodded in response. Anything they wanted to keep would have to be packed up and transported to Uncle Gadget's house. Anything like her parents' clothes would be donated to charity. Everything else would be sold, including the house itself. Judging by what her uncle said earlier, most if not all the money would end up going towards her college fund. Adding that to what she inherited due to the Will, Penny knew that her future was fairly secure.

Smiling reassuringly at her, Uncle Gadget quickly started gathering up picture frames and books from around the room, his arms extending almost without him noticing to allow him to reach the objects. The first few times she saw him doing that, Penny felt extremely surprised even as she tried to act like it was perfectly normal. By now it _did_ seem normal. While he was clearly still getting used to some of the more outlandish gadgets, the more "natural" ones like his limbs and neck extending weren't that difficult to adapt to. It certainly made it easier for him to pick up stuff he dropped now. On the other hand, the excessive length also made it far too easy for him to misjudge distances and knock things over.

A little more concerning for her was the random hands that seemed to pop out of the hat her uncle always wore with his trench coat. She didn't know for certain if they came out his hat or his head, but Penny didn't want to ask. It wasn't a good idea to ask questions that she'd be happier not knowing the answer to. She really didn't want to find out that they somehow fit into his skull, so she kept silent as one of them popped out to grab a small vase before it broke.

Her room was easier to deal with than the rest of the house. It was her space rather than one for the entire family, so the memories weren't quite as haunting. Setting down an empty box, Penny started emptying her dresser and packing away the ribbon she got for winning the spelling bee in kindergarten. It was strange to imagine that this would be the last time she was here. She grew up in this room and this house, but it was in the past now. She couldn't consider it home anymore. She would be taking her belongings and then the property would be sold to someone else. She didn't belong here anymore. Besides, nowhere could be home without her family.

Shifting her attention to her bed, Penny began folding up the comforter and sheets. Once they gathered everything and returned to Uncle Gadget's house, she could start redecorating the former guest room. She could put up her ribbons and awards from school. She could arrange her collection of books. She could toss a few stuffed animals on the bed. She wouldn't make it exactly like her old room, but she could make it cozier.

Reaching for a teddy bear her Uncle Dollar bought for her third birthday before his death, Penny heard a series of metallic crashes from the kitchen. She quickly identified the sounds of pots and pans tumbling out of the cabinets. Another smile tugged at her lips. Even within a few days of moving in with him, she was very quickly becoming accustomed to recognizing different minor disasters by noises alone. Before she moved in with him, she already knew her Uncle Gadget could be a little clumsy. Now, she knew exactly how many times he suffered accidents. Penny didn't know if he got worse after the addition of unfamiliar mechanical parts or if she was simply in a better position to notice, but she certainly could tell that "a little clumsy" might be a an understatement. And while she did worry a little every time he could theoretically get hurt, it was also growing familiar and comforting to listen to him stumble around.

"Are you okay?" she called out, just in case.

"I'm fine," he yelled back. "Some of these pots seem to have a few small dents in them though."

Again, a brief smile crossed Penny's face. Her uncle being more durable certainly had its perks. It helped prevent her from worrying _too_ much about his clumsiness. And, upon a little reflection, it was helping prevent her final memories of her old house from being negative. Instead of only remembering learning the news of her parents' demises and packing away their earthly belongings, she could picture her uncle dumping a cabinet full of pots and pans all over the kitchen while she listened from upstairs. That was a far better way to close this chapter of her life. Penny felt her mom and dad would approve.

Abruptly, Uncle Gadget's voice yanked her out of her musing.

"Wowser. Penny, did you know this car was in the garage? And it has a bow and a card with my name on it."

* * *

The addition of the Gadget-mobile, clearly labeled as a present for the inspector and including a detailed instruction manual written by the late Sophie for her brother, was an unexpected surprise for the small family. John Maxwell Gadget, the former child who excitedly suggested his sister build a vehicle that could fly so many years ago, felt especially happy about it. While momentarily disappointed by the lack of flight capabilities, he eagerly accepted Sophie's final gift and read the manual with far more enthusiasm than he did for the one concerning his new body. Though there was an instance where he mixed up the two.

In an attempt to help make the newest member of his household feel like she belonged, he suggested they redecorate the former guest room. The plain, impersonal space didn't suit his niece. Even the addition of her belongings didn't completely remove the sense that the room was meant only for temporary inhabitation. It would take time to make it Penny's room in the truest sense of the word, but he wanted to help it along. When he approached her with the idea, she agreed to try it.

* * *

Gadget stared cautiously at the object in his hand. It certainly didn't seem dangerous to him. Yet Penny's puppy, Brain, immediately dove under the tarp-covered bed as if some natural instinct was warning the canine of an impending disaster. The man felt that this was ridiculous, even if he generally didn't have the best luck when dealing with purchases from the home improvement department. After all, what was the worst that could happen with a couple of cans of paint?

"I think everything is covered up, Uncle Gadget," remarked Penny, tugging the last tarp over her dresser.

"Good. And the door and window are open. Ventilation is very important when dealing with paint. The fumes can be dangerous otherwise," he described.

He remembered one of those parenting books mentioning that it was important to take advantage of real-life situations and to turn them into learning experiences. He didn't remember if it was supposed to apply to kids of all ages or those at a specific level of development. Honestly, half the information in those books was either contradictory or just didn't make sense. If he needed any further proof of the difficulty of raising a child, the complicated advice did the job. But the idea of trying to teach helpful safety tips whenever possible certainly made sense to him. He wanted to Penny out of danger after all.

Opening the paint can revealed a warm rosy-pink shade that Penny picked out after some initial uncertainty. It wasn't a color Gadget would pick for himself, but it would certainly make the room look more like it belonged to a young girl. She might change her mind when she got older, but she'd hopefully like it for a few years at least.

He glanced between the can and the walls. It occurred to him that it might have been smarter to buy some larger paintbrushes rather than the impressive collection of small ones. It was going to take forever to cover everything in the cheerful color unless he could figure out a more effective method. There had to be a way to speed things up.

While he contemplated his options, Penny dipped her paintbrush in the can and gave an experimental swipe along the walls. As she began her third stroke, Gadget devised a strategy.

"Go Go Gadget Hands," he stated.

As a couple of mechanical arms popped out of his hat, he passed them the spare brushes. The more paintbrushes being used, the more quickly they could get Penny's room finished. That certainly made sense, though Penny did give him a brief odd look as he started laying down the first coat on the walls.

After a few minutes of silence as the two of them worked, Gadget decided to have a little fun with the task. After all, the entire wall would eventually be covered. There was nothing wrong with being a little creative with the process.

Using the brush in his right hand, he painted a smiley face on an empty section of wall while his mechanical arms continued to work above him. His niece grinned slightly at the picture before adding a flower next to where she was working. Enjoying himself, he tried his hand at painting a rose-colored dog. Unfortunately, it looked more like a box with a head. She continued by signing her name underneath a window. Gadget then started a game of tic-tac-toe on another portion of the wall.

During the middle of his third loss, Penny abruptly started giggling even as she struggled against it. When Gadget turned towards her in confusion, her chuckling only got worse. Before he could ask, she pointed above him. He glanced up and made the discovery that at least one of his mechanical arms was currently painting his hat instead of the wall with the warm pink shade.

Fumbling at the extra limbs in an attempt to stop them, Gadget managed to halt the discoloration of his hat while also stumbling over the tarp and tripping into the paint can. Rosy pink paint splattered everywhere. Long smears appeared on the walls and protective tarps. Most of the left side of his trench coat was covered and even Penny now sported a few splotches. She was covering her mouth as she stared at the spreading puddle from the can. Gadget grinned apologetically as he tried to upright the paint can before he lost any more of the pink liquid. He didn't mean to make a mess of everything.

"I think you were right about this being a nice color for your room," he remarked carefully, not knowing what else to say or do. "Though I don't think it's my shade."

As her hands dropped, he realized Penny wasn't upset about everything. She was laughing. His niece was laughing about the slight blunder. He didn't remember her giving a real and completely whole-hearted laugh like that since he woke up after the explosion. He missed that sound.

Reaching over with her paintbrush, she poked his nose and giggled slightly, "I think you missed a spot."

Smiling in response, he smeared a little across her cheek as she tried to duck away with a squeak. He knew this was about to devolve into a childish attempt to cover each other in paint. And he knew getting this all cleaned up was going to be a real chore. He couldn't go out to uphold the law with a pink trench coat and hat, after all. But he didn't care too much at the moment. He was just content to see her happy and acting like a child again.

* * *

Settling into life together took a little time, but the pair adapted to each other's routine far easier than expected. It took a little paperwork to switch Penn to a school closer to her new house, but she agreed a fresh start would be best. She could still call or visit her old friends if she needed to. Taking care of Brain during the day and trying to ignore the lingering nightmares at night helped distract her away from a very obvious fact. Penny knew it was only a matter of time before her uncle returned to the field. And thus he would be in danger again. It was a countdown that she didn't want to think about, so she concentrated on getting used to her new life instead and taking pleasure from the little day-to-day details.

When it became harder to ignore it after Chief Quimby finally told the inspector he could return to duty, Penny knew she was out of time. Her uncle would return to a job that was dangerous and she couldn't protect him from it. She wouldn't be able to keep him safe. At least, she wouldn't be able to if she stay home obediently. An hour after she learned when her uncle would begin working again, Penny pulled the box out from under the bed and reclaimed her mother's inventions.

* * *

Strapping the watch on her wrist, Penny mentally reviewed her plan. Uncle Gadget would be leaving soon to investigate something Chief Quimby tried to brief him subtly on. There was some suspicious activity at a supposedly shut-down ammunitions factory. Her uncle accepted the assignment whole-heartedly and, after asking her if she would be all right on her own, told Penny to be careful while he was gone. That was where his intentions concerning her actions and hers differed.

Armed with the watch and computer book, she fully intended to accompany him. It she could help him find some clues about what was going on, he would get the job done faster and would be safe again sooner. And while she ran her own investigations, she would send Brain to keep an eye on Uncle Gadget. The puppy was proving to be very intelligent and capable of following even more complex commands. With the addition of the collar she modified as a communication device that connected to the watch, she could supply later instructions to Brain and try to keep up-to-date on her uncle's condition. She might just be a child, but she wasn't stupid enough to attempt something this dangerous without being prepared.

She scratched Brain behind the ears, trying to encourage the canine. He seemed to realize that something important was going on and he looked a little nervous. Penny hoped he would calm down soon though. It would be time to leave before long and she'd feel more comfortable with this if her partner didn't seem so anxious.

"It'll be all right," she assured the puppy. "We can do this. All we have to do is sneak along with him. You can guard Uncle Gadget and keep him out of trouble while he looks around. If things get too rough or we find enough evidence, we can call the police for more help. It'll be easy."

Brain's ears perked up and his tail wagged slightly in response. At least he was feeling more confident. She wasn't quite as certain about their success since she'd never tried this sort of thing before, but she would still try regardless. She couldn't stand the alternative of waiting at home and hoping that he'd make it back. She didn't want to answer the door to the police coming with news and condolences concerning her loss. Never again.

Giving her puppy one last reassuring pat, Penny crept over and squeezed the pair of them into the back of the Gadget-mobile.

* * *

Penny's first attempt to assist her uncle ended as a complete success. Her second mission following him also turned out for the best. The girl continued to help as much as possible while remaining in the background. Not every investigation went smoothly over the years however. Penny gained far too much experience at being tied up and held captive. There were moments where she honestly feared for her life and her uncle's. She never managed skip ahead a few grades because of her excessive absences from class. On the other hand, she got to see the world and even be the hero occasionally, even if Brain was the only one who knew about her involvement for certain. She also got to see her uncle in action. Penny also discovered that sometimes it was fun to act like an inspector herself. By the time she experienced her tenth birthday, she was well on her way to becoming an expert at this.

Inspector Gadget remained oblivious to his niece's involvement in his cases. He also remained ignorant of how many times her canine kept him out of danger to the point where Brain was bound to eventually suffer a stress-related breakdown. Even a genetically-enhanced dog could only take so many life-threatening missions without reacting. John Maxwell Gadget focused fully on two main aspects of his life. He took care and raised Penny to the best of his ability and he fulfilled his duty as a crime-fighter just as he did before the explosion completely altered his life. He adapted to his gadgets and their use almost began to feel natural to him, though not without minor problems. Prototype technology can't be expected to be perfect. But everyone has their quirks, so he managed to keep working regardless of the fact occasionally the wrong gadget might activate. He would never let something that relatively-minor prevent him from upholding the law and stopping criminals.

Chief Quimby observed everything that happened over the years. He sent Inspector Gadget on increasingly-dangerous missions far beyond what should be expected of a member of the Metro City police. He wasn't always happy with it, but he needed Inspector Gadget's incredible luck, unexplainable skills at unraveling crime, and his new capabilities if they wanted to avoid loss of life. No one else could handle these cases as efficiently, even if dealing with Gadget on a daily basis ran the risk of injury and frustration. The inspector with his mechanized additions kept dismantling MAD operations without suffering the losses that others did in the attempt. Quimby always tried to minimize the danger by only sending out the best and most effective individuals when he knew or suspected he was dealing with MAD and Gadget was always his first choice. On the other hand, most of the people that were sent on those missions didn't have families and they especially didn't have an orphaned niece with no other family. There were days where even the exploding messages tossed in his face and congratulating Gadget on a job well done wasn't enough to banish the thought of what would happen if the man's luck ever ran out. Or Penny's. The fact that the girl always seemed to be present for the aftermath and seemed to be the one calling for back-up was something Quimby desperately tried to ignore. He didn't want to consider the implications. He knew that MAD did its best to rip apart the small family with that explosion, but Chief Quimby was afraid that his dependence on Inspector Gadget might someday finish the job.

But regardless of how he might wish to prevent that possible result, Quimby couldn't find an alternative. He tried. He invested funding into a state-of-the-art computer to help predict crime and make response time shorter. A reduction in the crime rate would give him an excuse to retire Inspector Gadget. He knew it was a harsh move; the man's commitment to the job was almost as powerful as the one he felt towards his niece. He always insisted he was on duty and his devotion to upholding the law at times seemed to put other cops to shame. His life was apparently centered solely on being an inspector and being an uncle. The chief didn't know how well Gadget would be able to adapt to a life outside of crime-fighting, but at least there would be a greater chance of him surviving to see Penny reach adulthood. Even Quimby's best inentions to find a way to break of his dependence on the man didn't work out however. The computer just couldn't make up for the loss of Gadget from the police force. He had no other choice but to rehire him in the end and he could only hope that Inspector Gadget's luck continued as the years passed. And if he ended up suffering minor burns from exploding messages and headaches from a mallet, then that was not too high a cost of having the inspector still alive and working against MAD.

Ever year though that passed since the unintended explosion arranged by the now-deceased minion, Dr. Claw wished more strongly that the inspector did die. He couldn't even count how many times a plan was unraveled by the man's presence. His attempts to kill Gadget always failed. If the murder of the Dollars had successfully destroyed him in the process, so many problems could have been avoided for MAD's operations. Instead, he managed to make Gadget even more durable and capable than before. And with every failed plot and trap, his hatred for the man grew.

* * *

Stroking the feline sitting next to the console, Dr. Claw stared at the newest scientist in his employment. There were always those who would surrender their morals for money. Those were useful people to MAD. Those that could be bought, tricked, or threatened could always be taken advantage of. Those that refused subtler methods could be stolen from or killed if they became an obstacle. It was those who refused to die however that proved problematic.

"I've heard you've been having a little difficulty with a certain inspector," the scientist remarked, staring carefully into the shadows as if he could see the man's features if he looked hard enough. "I believe he is called Gadget, correct?"

"Yes," he growled, his blood boiling at the mere mention of the troubling man's name. "And you believe you have the solution to my little problem, Dr. Nibroc?"

The man flinched slightly at Dr. Claw's tone, but he continued, "I believe I do. If you recall, I worked for the government developing military weapons of a more unusual nature. One of our developments might just be the thing to eliminate the inspector for good."

"You have perked my attention," he remarked. "But can you deliver your promised solution? Keep in mind that I do not accept failure lightly."

"I understand, Dr. Claw. But I also know the reason for past failures."

"Oh? Please enlighten me, doctor."

"I've read the rather extensive report on his actions and history against MAD. It is rather impressive, but short-sighted in regards to how to handle him. You've always tried to defeat the man how you might any other man. But he isn't truly just another man anymore. You must also consider him as a machine or a rather durable weapon. How would you halt a tank, an airplane, or one of your very own weapons of destruction? Bullets can be deflected. Fire can be extinguished or resisted. Water can be dealt with. Heavy weights can be braced against. Blades can be withstood by reinforcement. And explosions are what helped create your opponent in the first place, correct? Brute force might be able to overcome a powerful machine, but only if you have enough might and luck on your side. That is no guarantee. And yet time and time again, those with simple minds continue to fall back on those options in a desperate attempt to win through strength alone. It doesn't matter if it is those unimaginative generals wanting bigger guns or your own MAD agents playing with bombs and spike traps."

"My patience wears thin, Dr. Nibroc. Get to your point."

"Brute strength may fail when turned against a powerful enough machine, but even a single handful of sand in the gears can bring it grinding to a halt. Rather than trying to conquer the man, you must destroy the machine from within. If the systems cannot operate correctly, the machine will fail to function. Your troublesome inspector will fail to function. Don't strike out against a man. Deactivate a machine."

Stroking his loyal feline again, Dr. Claw remarked, "An interesting idea, doctor. And you believe you have a way to make this happen? You think you would be able to 'deactivate' _Gadget_?" He practically snarled the last word, his hatred for the troublesome inspector competing against his pleasure at the possibility of his demise. "I would love to see that. Tell me how you intend to 'toss the sand into the gears,' so to speak."

"I have a few conditions first."

He slammed his hand against the console, startling the cat and Dr. Nibroc by cracking the surface with the impact. Dr. Claw knew that the scientist would be cringing if he could see his glare. But it was best to keep to the shadows for now. Until he could trust Dr. Nibroc completely, there was no reason to trust him with his face. It would be such a waste if he had to kill the scientist to ensure silence. None of his enemies needed a description after all. Why should he make it easier for the police scurrying around to arrest him?

His voice dropping even lower in tone than normal, Dr. Claw hissed, "What sort of conditions?"

"First, you'll double my agreed upon salary if this works."

"_What?_"

"I know you can afford it and I know that removing the inspector permanently is worth it to you," Dr. Nibroc defended.

Fighting the urge to grab the man by the throat, Dr. Claw forced himself to admit that both of the scientist's statements were true. He'd _triple_ his salary if it meant the end of Gadget. Too many years of swearing to destroy him next time and always failing ensured that Dr. Claw would give anything to stop the interruptions of his plans. He'd even settle for others interfering in his operations, other inspectors and other cops, just so long as he was rid of _Gadget_.

"And what is your second condition?" he asked darkly.

Taking a breath, the scientist said, "I keep the plans and designs of the weapon that will destroy him. No one else gets access to that information and I am get to dictate how it is used."

Mildly amused, he asked, "Afraid I'll misuse your invention, doctor? Afraid of it falling into the wrong hands?"

"Not at all. I just want to keep control of it as insurance against anyone deciding to remove the middle man. If I'm the only one in your employment who knows how to make this device, then my knowledge and my life will remain valuable to you. I don't want to be disposed of once you have what you want."

Chuckling slightly at his boldness, Dr. Claw said, "A very wise security measure. Very well. The plans and the device itself will belong solely to you. And thus your life is secure if your creation works how you believe it should. But remember this one fact, doctor. Just as you gamble on this plan, there is a risk in proportion to your reward. If the inspector survives what you have in store for him, I will not weep over the loss of your invention or _you_." When he saw Dr. Nibroc pale at the threat, he smiled to himself and continued in a friendly-sounding tone, "Just consider it as a slight motivation. If you are so certain that you have the answer to my problem with the inspector, then it shouldn't be that great of a concern to you. All you must do is simply succeed at killing him and there should be no trouble at all."

"Of course," he nodded nervously. Dr. Nibroc took a moment to compose himself before regaining his earlier confidence. Staring firmly into the shadows that concealed Dr. Claw from view, he asked, "Are you familiar with an electromagnetic pulse?"

"I believe I've heard the term before. A side effect of nuclear weapons exploding if I recall."

"A very important side effect," nodded Dr. Nibroc. "At least, it is for you. It is a burst of electromagnetic radiation that results in rapidly changing electrical and magnetic fields. These abrupt changes have an interesting and devastating effect when in contact with technology. Specifically, it will produce damaging currents and voltage surges that overload circuits and leave all pieces of technology useless. Perhaps some of the older vacuum tubes might survive if there is no electricity running through it at the time, but anything more modern will be completely fried by the effect. Nothing technological in range will come out unscathed. And that includes your least favorite inspector and his mechanical additions."

"A nice science lesson, but useless to me," he pointed out dryly. "MAD may have access to a number of technologies and can steal others in necessary, but nuclear weapons are a little more difficult. They can be gained with time, but they tend to draw attention more quickly than most of our crimes. And if I were to gain access to them simply to destroy _Gadget_, do you not think it would be far simpler and much more satisfying to blow him up instead of taking advantage of some silly side effect?"

Dr. Nibroc smiled, "While the public only knows of nuclear-based EMPs, part of my past research was developing ways to produce the results without the aid of a nuclear weapon. The government is still extremely secretive about it, but a few other top scientists might have an idea of the possibility and those with connections might have heard whispers. Regardless, all you need to worry about is that I can build you a device that will destroy any technology in range. That is the only downside. The effect is not quite as widespread this way, but it should still be more than enough to overload every circuit in the inspector's body. All you have to do is to get it close to him and you'll never have to worry about him again."

The scientist didn't even realize the leader of MAD was smiling at the idea until the laughter started. It was a deep and menacing laugh that sent shivers down the spine of even the most experienced agents. Dr. Claw knew that the doctor would prefer to leave the room to escape the noise, but he was too pleased with this development to pay attention to the man's reaction. Dr. Nibroc's statement about destroying the machine instead of the man was right. The science behind this plan sounded absolutely sound and there would be no escaping a trap this time for the inspector. All those headaches of dealing with the messes he caused would be over. After all those times promising to get Gadget next time…

"There will _be_ no next time for him," he stated firmly.

**Yeah, this was part of the idea that originally spawned this story. Among more ordinary questions, I wondered why no one else ever thought about using an EMP against Gadget. Not even in fanfiction (at least, they weren't when I started writing this). So I figured "why not" and decided to give Dr. Claw a chance to be extra evil today. And I did the research to make sure I know (sort of) what I'm talking about. So prepare to be educated.**

**An ****electromagnetic pulse**** (commonly abbreviated ****EMP****) is a burst of electromagnetic radiation. The abrupt pulse of electromagnetic radiation usually results from certain types of high-energy explosions, especially a nuclear explosion, or from a suddenly fluctuating magnetic field. The resulting rapidly changing electric fields and magnetic fields may couple with electrical/electronic systems to produce damaging current and voltage surges. Scientist first noticed them during the time they were testing nuclear weapons in the 40s. The larger scientific community became aware of the significance of the EMP problem after a series of three articles were published about nuclear electromagnetic pulse in 1981 by William J. Broad in the weekly publication **_**Science**_**. **

**Of course, if Dr. Claw had nuclear weapons, I think he'd rather just blow Gadget up rather than trying to fry all his cybernetic parts. But there are other ways to cause an EMP. The concept of the explosively pumped flux compression generator for generating a non-nuclear electromagnetic pulse (NNEMP) was conceived as early as 1951 by Andrei Sakharov in the Soviet Union, but nations have usually kept their most recent work on non-nuclear EMP highly classified until the technology was old enough for similar ideas to be conceived by physicists in other nations. These tend to be limited in range compared to nuclear ones, but allow for a more surgical strike against a target. Not to mention the devices don't necessarily have to be as big.**

**I think (hope) that I only have one more chapter, but I really don't want to risk saying that. Every time I guess a story length for this thing, I get proven wrong. And if you like the idea of using an EMP against Inspector Gadget, check out Aline Riva's new story "Heart of Steel." She's a wonderful writer and we talked about a few ideas that helped inspire the story. It is based more on the movies than the cartoons, but it is definitely worth reading and reviewing. It is under my favorite story list if you're interested.**

**Thanks for all the support. I hope you're enjoying this so far.**


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